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Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN

COUNTESS. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your

breeding.

CLOWN. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I know my

business is but to the court.

COUNTESS. To the court! Why, what place make you special, when you

put off that with such contempt? But to the court!

CLOWN. 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.

COUNTESS. Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions.

CLOWN. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks-the pin

buttock, the quatch buttock, the brawn buttock, or any buttock.

COUNTESS. Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

CLOWN. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your

French crown for your taffety punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's

forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for Mayday,

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.

COUNTESS. Have you, I, say, an answer of such fitness for all

questions?

CLOWN. From below your duke to beneath your constable, it will fit

any question.

COUNTESS. It must be an answer of most monstrous size that must fit

all demands.

CLOWN. 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.

COUNTESS. 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?

CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-There's a simple putting off. More, more, a

hundred of them.

COUNTESS. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.

CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Thick, thick; spare not me.

COUNTESS. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.

CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.

COUNTESS. You were lately whipp'd, sir, as I think.

CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Spare not me.

COUNTESS. 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.

CLOWN. I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, sir!' I see

thing's may serve long, but not serve ever.

COUNTESS. I play the noble housewife with the time,

To entertain it so merrily with a fool.

CLOWN. O Lord, sir!-Why, there't serves well again.

COUNTESS. 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.

CLOWN. Not much commendation to them?

COUNTESS. Not much employment for you. You understand me?

CLOWN. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs.

COUNTESS. Haste you again. Exeunt