That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that
she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble
thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my
forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all
women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the
wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to
trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the
finer) I will liue a Batchellor.
I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue.
With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger,
my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more
blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking,
picke out mine eyes with a Ballet‑makers penne, and
hang me vp at the doore of a brothel‑house for the signe
of blinde Cupid.
Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith,
thou wilt proue a notable argument.
If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot
at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoul
der, and cal'd
Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage
Bull doth beare
The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible
Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set
them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and
in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse
to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may
Benedicke the married man.
If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee
Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in
Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.
I looke for an earthquake too then.
Well, you will temporize with the houres, in
the meane time, good Signior
Benedicke, repaire to
, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile
him at supper, for indeede he hath made great prepara
I haue almost matter enough in me for such an
Embassage, and so I commit you.
To the tuition of God. From my house, if I
The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend,
Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your
discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the
guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout
old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I
Leonatoany sonne my Lord? Hero, she's his onely heire. Claudio? Herois,