Beatrice: “Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sun-burnt; I may sit in a corner, and cry heigh-ho for a husband!
Don Pedro: Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.
Beatrice: I would rather have one of your father’s getting. Hath your Grace ne’er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.
Don Pedro: Will you have me lady?
Beatrice: No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days: your Grace is too costly to wear every day. But, i beseech your Grace, pardon me: I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.
Don Pedro: Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.
Beatrice: No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was i born. Cousins, God give you joy!
Much Ado About Nothing 2.1
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