Clown.
Count. note
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.
-- 139 --
Count.
To the court note! why, what place make you special,
when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! note
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, note 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 note 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 note 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 note you, sir, are you a courtier?
-- 140 --
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 note not serve ever.
note
Count.
I play the noble housewife note with the time,
To entertain 't note so merrily with a fool.
Clo.
O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.
Count.
An end, sir; to note your business. Give Helen this,
And urge her to a present answer back:
Commend me to my kinsmen and my son:
This is not note 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 note.
-- 141 --
note
William Aldis Wright [1863–1866], The works of William Shakespeare edited by William George Clark... and John Glover [and William Aldis Wright] (Macmillan and Co., London) [word count] [S10701].