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More from Much Ado About Nothing

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.

Beatrice: Against my will, I am sent to bid you come into dinner.
Benedick: Fair Beatrice, thank you for your pains.
Beatrice: I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful, I would not have come.
Benedick: You take pleasure then in the message?
Beatrice: Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife’s point. You have no stomach, signor? Fare you well.
Benedick: Ha! “Against my will I am sent to bid you come into dinner.” There’s a double meaning in that.

BENEDICK: Why, i’ faith, methinks she’s too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her.

Beatrice: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

BENEDICK: That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me.