"But Nature never fram'd a woman's heart,
Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice."
"And therefore certainly it were not good,
She knew his love lest she'll make sport at it."
"But who would tell her so? If I should speak,
She would mock me into air, O she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit."
"She's limed I warrant you,
We have caught her Madam."
"What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?"