Benedick

This can be no trick. The conference was sadly bourne. They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady. It seems her affections have their full bent. Love me? Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured. They say that I will bear myself proudly if I do perceive the love come from her. They say, too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. I did not think to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair. Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous. Tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance to have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I have railed so long against marriage. But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humor? No--the world must be peopled. When I said that I would die a bachelor I did not think that I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.