Benedick: Soft and fair, friar.
Which is Beatrice?

Beatrice: I answer to that name.
/Unmasking/
What is your will?

Benedick: Do not you love me?

Beatrice: Why, no; no more than reason.

Benedick: Why then, your uncle and the prince and Claudio
Have been deceived; they swore you did.

Beatrice: Do not you love me?

Benedick: Troth, no; no more than reason.

Beatrice: Why then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula,
Are much deceived; for they did swear you did.

Benedick: They swore that you were almost sick for me.

Beatrice: They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

Benedick: 'T is no such matter.
Then you do not love me?

Beatrice: No, truly, but in friendly recompense.

Leonato: Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.

Claudio: And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
For here's a paper written in his hand,
A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero: And here's another
Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Benedick: A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts.
Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beatrice: I would not deny you; but, by this good day,
I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life,
for I was told you were in a consumption.

Benedick: Peace! I will stop your mouth.
/Kisses her/

Billy Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

My other fanfic account: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/331318/