No More Learning

Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.
Pedro. What, a feast, a feast?
Claud. I' faith, I thank him, he hath bid me to a calve's head and
a capon, the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my
knife's naught. Shall I not find a woodcock too?
Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
Pedro. I'll tell thee how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day. I
said thou hadst a fine wit: 'True,' said she, 'a fine little
one. ' 'No,' said I, 'a great wit. ' 'Right,' says she, 'a great
gross one. ' 'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit. ' 'Just,' said she, 'it
hurts nobody.
' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman is wise. ' 'Certain,'
said she, a wise gentleman. ' 'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the
tongues. ' 'That I believe' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me
on Monday night which he forswore on Tuesday morning. There's a
double tongue; there's two tongues. ' Thus did she an hour
together transshape thy particular virtues. Yet at last she
concluded with a sigh, thou wast the proper'st man in Italy.
Claud. For the which she wept heartily and said she cared not.
Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if she did not
hate him deadly, she would love him dearly. The old man's
daughter told us all.
Claud. All, all! and moreover, God saw him when he was hid in the
garden.
Pedro.