Page 1393 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

What means the fool, trow?

MARGARET
Nothing I; but God send everyone their heart’s desire!

HERO
These gloves the Count sent me; they are an [55] excellent perfume.

BEATRICE
I am stuffed, cousin, I cannot smell.

MARGARET
A maid, and stuffed! There’s goodly catching of cold.

BEATRICE
O, God help me! God help me! How long have [60] you professed
apprehension?

MARGARET
Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?

BEATRICE
It is not seen enough; you should wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am sick.
[65]

MARGARET
Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart: it
is the only thing for a qualm.

HERO

There thou prickest her with a thistle.

BEATRICE

Benedictus! Why Benedictus? You have some [70] moral in this Benedictus.

MARGARET