My dear Lady Disdain

Much Ado About Nothing

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BEATRICE

I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.

BENEDICK

What! my dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?

BEATRICE

Is it possible Disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.

BENEDICK

Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.

BEATRICE

A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

BENEDICK

God keep your Ladyship still in that mind; so some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face.

BEATRICE

Scratching could not make it worse, and ’twere such a face as yours were.

BENEDICK

Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.

BEATRICE

A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.

BENEDICK

I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i’ God’s name; I have done.

BEATRICE

You always end with a jade’s trick: I know you of old.

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