| Claudio: | By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. |
| Hero: | Beatrice is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for she hath often dreamt of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing. |
| Claudio: | She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. |
| Hero: | O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit. |
| Claudio: | She were an excellent wife for Benedick. |
| Hero: | O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad. Claudio, when mean we go to church? |
| Claudio: | Not till Monday, my dear, which is hence a just seven-night. And les uns in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signor Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection the one with the other. I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. |
| Hero: | I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. |