Open Source Shakespeare

Speeches (Lines) for Margaret
in "Much Ado about Nothing"

Total: 26

# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

II,1,488

So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many
ill-qualities.

2

II,1,491

I say my prayers aloud.

3

II,1,493

God match me with a good dancer!

4

II,1,495

And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is
done! Answer, clerk.

5

III,1,1086

I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently.

6

III,4,1496

Troth, I think your other rabato were better.

7

III,4,1498

By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your
cousin will say so.

8

III,4,1502

I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair
were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare...

9

III,4,1507

By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of
yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with...

10

III,4,1515

'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.

11

III,4,1517

Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not
marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord...

12

III,4,1531

Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a
burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.

13

III,4,1536

O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.

14

III,4,1539

For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?

15

III,4,1541

Well, and you be not turned Turk, there's no more
sailing by the star.

16

III,4,1544

Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!

17

III,4,1548

A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.

18

III,4,1551

Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?

19

III,4,1554

Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus,
and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.

20

III,4,1559

Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I
meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance...

21

III,4,1573

Not a false gallop.

22

V,2,2413

Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?

23

V,2,2417

To have no man come over me! why, shall I always
keep below stairs?

24

V,2,2420

And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit,
but hurt not.

25

V,2,2425

Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.

26

V,2,2428

Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.