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Bene. I have almost matter enough in me for such an embassage, and so I commit you—

Claud. To the tuition of God. From my house—if I had it—

D. Pedro. The sixt of July. Your loving friend, Benedick.

Bene. Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on neither. Ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I leave you.

Exit.

Claud.

My liege, your Highness now may do me good.

D. Pedro.

My love is thine to teach; teach it but how,

And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn

Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

Claud.

Hath Leonato any son, my lord?

D. Pedro.

No child but Hero, she’s his only heir.

Dost thou affect her, Claudio?

Claud.

O my lord,

When you went onward on this ended action,

I look’d upon her with a soldier’s eye,

That lik’d, but had a rougher task in hand

Than to drive liking to the name of love.

But now I am return’d, and that war-thoughts

Have left their places vacant, in their rooms