Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS'S Palace. |
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Enter COUNTESS and Clown. |
Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding. |
Clo. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I know my business is but to the court. |
Count. To the court! why what place make you special, when you put off that with such contempt? 'But to the court!' |
Clo. Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court. But, for me, I have an answer will serve all men. |
Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions. |
Clo. It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock. |
Count. Will your answer serve fit to all questions? |
Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; nay, as the pudding to his skin. |
Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions? |
Clo. From below your duke to beneath your constable, it will fit any question. |
Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size that must fit all demands. |
Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs to't: ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do you no harm to learn. |
Count. To be young again, if we could. I will be a fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier? |
Clo. O Lord, sir! there's a simple putting off. More, more, a hundred of them. |
Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. |
Clo. O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. |
Count. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. |
Clo. O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. |
Count. You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. |
Clo. O Lord, sir! Spare not me. |
Count. Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 'Spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. |
Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. |
Count. I play the noble housewife with the time, |
To entertain't so merrily with a fool. |
Clo. O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. |
Count. An end, sir: to your business. Give Helen this, |
And urge her to a present answer back: |
Commend me to my kinsmen and my son. |
This is not much. |
Clo. Not much commendation to them. |
Count. Not much employment for you: you understand me? |
Clo. Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. |
Count. Haste you again. [Exeunt severally. |
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