Ben. Pluck off the bull's horns, and set them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted:and let them signify under my sign,-Here you may see Benedict, the married man.

Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. O Lord! he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad.

Ben. Happy are they, that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.

Dogb. This is your charge:-you shall comprehend all vagrom men.

Act II. Scene III.

Dogb. Yea, marry, let them come before me.-What is your name, friend?

Bora. Borachio.

Act IV. Scene II.

Act III. Scene III.

Beat. Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

Act V. Scene II.