if black, why, nature, drawing of an antic. made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed | hero |
and truly i’ll devise some honest slanders to stain my cousin with. one doth not know how much an ill word may empoison liking. | hero |
what fire is in mine ears? can this be true? stand i condemned for pride and scorn so much? | beatrice |
hang him, truant! theres no true drop of blood in him to be truly touched with love. | prince |
that’s as much to say, the sweet youth’s in love | claudio |
even she; leonato’s hero, your hero, every man’s hero | don john |
and as i wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to disgrace her | prince |
yet benedick was such another, and now he become a man | margaret |
o what men do, what men dare do daily | claudio |
she knows the heat of a luxurious bed. her blush is guiltiness, not modesty | claudio |
if you in your own proof, have vanquished the resistance of her youth, and made defeat of her virginity | leonato |
i stand dishonored that have gone about to link my dear friend to a common stale | prince |
but you are more intemperate in your blood than venus, or those pampered animals that rage in savage sensuality | claudio |
now if you are a maid answer to this | claudio |
there is not chastity enough in language without offense to utter them- thus pretty lady, i am sorry for thy much misgovernment | don john |
o fate, take not away thy heavy hand! death is the fairest cover for her shame that may be wished for | leonato |
valuing of her- hath drops too few to wash her clean again, and salt too little which may season give to her foul tainted flesh | leonato |
by noting of the lady, i have marked a thousand blushing apparitions | friar |
they know that do accuse me, i know none. if i know more of any man alive than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, let all my sins lack mercy! refuse me hate me torture me to death | hero |
let her awhile be secretly kept in, and publish it that she is dead indeed. | friar |
yet by mine honor, i will deal in this and secretly and justly as your soul should with your body | benedick |
i will swear by it that you love me, and i will make him eat it that says i love not you | benedick |
i do love nothing in the world so well as you. is that not strange? | benedick |
for there was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently. however they have writ the style of gods and made a push at chance and sufferance | leonato |
my soul doth tell me that hero is bellied. and that shall claudio know; so shall the prince, and all of them that thus dishonor her | leonato |
we have been up and down to seek thee, wilt though use thy wit? | claudio |
you are a villain, i jest not. i will make it good how you dare, with what you dare. do me right, or i will protest your cowardice | benedick |
fare you well boy. you know my mind. you break jests as braggarts do their blades which god be thanked, hurt you. | benedick |
i have deceived even your very eyes. what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow foold have brought to light, who in the night overheard me confessing to this man how don john incensed me to sllander the lady hero | borachio |
suffer love! a good epithet. i do suffer love indeed, for i love thee against my will | benedick |
done to death by slanderous tongues | claudio |
i think he thinks upon the savage bull, tush fear not, man. we’ll tip thy horns with gold | claudio |
i will have thee, but by this light i take thee for pity | benedick |
i yield upon the great persuasion and partly to save your life, for i was told you were in a consumption | beatrice |
much ado abt nothing quiz 2
July 25, 2019