Peace! I will stop your mouth.

Benedick:

Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice? Beatrice:
[Pushed out of crowd by Antonio. Removes veil, clears throat]
I answer to that name. [Appraoches Benedick] Beatrice:
What is your will? Benedick:
Do not you love me? Beatrice:
Why, no. No more than reason. Benedick:
Well, then your Uncle, the prince and Claudio have been deceived. They swore you did. Beatrice:
Do not you love me? Benedick:
Why, no. No more than reason. Beatrice:
Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula are much deceived for they swear you did. Benedick:
They swore you were almost sick for me. Beatrice:
They swore you well nigh dead for me. Benedick:
'Tis no such matter. Then... you... do not love me? Beatrice:
No, truly, but in friendly recompense. [Shakes Benedick's hand] Leonato:
Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. Claudio:
I'll be sworn upon he loves her, for here's a paper written in his hand a halting sonnet of his own pure brain, fashioned to Beatrice. Hero:
And here's another... Beatrice:
No! [Slaps Hero's hand] Hero:
...writ in my cousin's hand, stolen 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 Beatrice]