Couer thy head,
couer thy head: Nay prethee bee couer'd.
How olde are you Friend?
_Will_. Fiue and twentie Sir.
_Clo_. A ripe age: Is thy name _William_?
_Will_. _William_, Sir.
_Clo_. A faire name. Was't borne i' the Forrest
heere?
_Will_. I [Aye] Sir, I thanke God.
_Clo_. Thanke God: A good answer: Art rich?
_Will_. 'Faith Sir, so, so.
_Clo_. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent
good: and yet it is not, it is but so, so: Art
thou wise?
_Will_. I [Aye] sir, I haue a prettie wit.
_Clo_. Why, thou saist well. I do now remember
a saying: The Foole doth thinke he is wise,
but the wise man knowes himselfe to be a
Foole.... You do loue this maid?
_Will_. I do Sir.
_Clo_. Giue me your hand: art thou Learned?
_Will_. No Sir.
_Clo_. Then learne this of me, To haue is to haue.
For it is a figure in Rhetoricke, that drink
being powr'd out of a cup into a glasse, by
filling the one, doth empty the other. For all
your Writers do consent, that _ipse_ is hee:
now you are not _ipse_, for I am he.
_Will_.
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