ill-favouredly.
Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to
Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world,
not in the lineaments of Nature.
No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she
not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature
hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not
Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?
Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
Nature's wit.
Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but
Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull
to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this
natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of
the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now,
wit! whither wander you?
Mistress, you must come away to your father.
Were you made the messenger?
No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.
Where learned you that oath, fool?
Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they
were good pancakes and swore by his honour the
mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the
pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and
yet was not the knight forsworn.
How prove you that, in the great heap of your
knowledge?
Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and
swear by your beards that I am a knave.
By our beards, if we had them, thou art.
By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you
swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no
more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he
never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.
Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?
One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
My father's love is enough to honour him: enough!
speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation
one of these days.
The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what
wise men do foolishly.
By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little
wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery
that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes
Monsieur Le Beau.
With his mouth full of news.
Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
Then shall we be news-crammed.
All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news?
Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
Sport! of what