In Leonato's orchard, Benedick hides within earshot.

BENEDICK: I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will become the argument of his own scorn.
DON PEDRO: Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?
CLAUDIO: O, ay. Stalk on, stalk on. The fowl sits.
BENEDICK: Is't possible?
LEONATO: She loves him with an enraged affection. It is past the infinite of thought.
DON PEDRO: Maybe she doth but counterfeit.
CLAUDIO: Faith, like enough.
LEONATO: O, by no means. She has made her affection known to Hero.
BENEDICK: Love me? Why, it must be requited.
