COUNTESS. What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah. The complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; ’tis my slowness that I do not; for I know you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours. CLOWN. ’Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. COUNTESS. Well, sir. CLOWN. No, madam, ’tis not so well that I am poor, though many of the rich are damned; but if I may have your ladyship’s good will to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I will do as we may. COUNTESS. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? CLOWN. I do beg your good will in this case. COUNTESS. In what case? CLOWN. In Isbel’s case and mine own. Service is no heritage, and I think I shall never have the blessing of God till I have issue of my body; for they say barnes are blessings. COUNTESS. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. CLOWN. My poor body, madam, requires it; I am driven on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil drives. COUNTESS. Is this all your worship’s reason? CLOWN. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. COUNTESS. May the world know them? CLOWN. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are; and indeed I do marry that I may repent. COUNTESS. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. CLOWN. I am out of friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife’s sake. COUNTESS. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. CLOWN. Y’are shallow, madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me which I am a-weary of. He that ears my land spares my team, and gives me leave to in the crop: if I be his cuckold, he’s my drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood is my friend; ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the papist, howsome’er their hearts are sever’d in religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl horns together like any deer i’ the herd. COUNTESS. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth’d and calumnious knave? CLOWN. A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way: _For I the ballad will repeat, Which men full true shall find; Your marriage comes by destiny, Your cuckoo sings by kind._ COUNTESS. Get you gone, sir; I’ll talk with you more anon. STEWARD. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to speak. COUNTESS. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean.