di schermaglie d'arguzie e motti di spirito_BENEDICK: I do love nothing in the world so well as you; is not that strange?
BEATRICE: As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you; but believe me not, and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
BENEDICK: By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
BEATRICE: Do not swear, and eat it.
BENEDICK: I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.
BEATRICE: Will you not eat your word?
BENEDICK: With no sauce that can be devised to it; I protest I love thee.
BEATRICE: Why, then, God forgive me!
BENEDICK: What offence, sweet Beatrice?
BEATRICE: You have stayed me in a happy hour; I was about to protest I loved you.
BENEDICK: And do it with all thy heart.
BEATRICE: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
Colate d'ingegno in una prosa limpida e incalzante.
Arguta e sognante, caustica e delicata al tempo stesso.
Commedia allo stato puro. Una delle più belle opere di Shakespeare.