Hero and Ursula walk where Beatrice can hear them.

HERO: Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, our talk must only be of Benedick.
URSULA: I know he doth deserve as much as may be yielded to a man.
HERO: But nature never framed a woman's heart of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice.
BEATRICE: What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
URSULA: She cannot be so much without true judgment, having so swift and excellent a wit as she is prized to have.
HERO: If I should speak, she would mock me into air.
BEATRICE: Contempt, farewell. Maiden pride, adieu. Benedick, love on; I will requite thee.
