There is no justice in it. Marry a cobbler
And make a king of him. It is unequal,--
Here is one beggarly boy king in his own right,
And king by right of you.

BIA. Mario is not
A beggarly boy! Nay, tell me truly, Beatrice,
What do you think of him?

BEA. La, by my soul!
Have I not told you what I think of him
A thousand times? He is graceful enough, I tell you,
And hath a well-shaped head.

BIA. Nay, is that all?

BEA. Nay, hands and feet he hath, like any other.

BIA. Oh, out upon you for a surly baggage!
Why will you tease me so? You do not like him,
I think.

BEA. Snow-White! Forgive me! La, indeed,
I was but jesting! By my sacred word,
These brides are serious folk.

BIA. I could not bear
To wed a man that was displeasing to you.
Loving him as I do, I could not choose
But wed him, if he wished it, but 'twould hurt me