Such a day, I mark thee, whereupon the winter of our discontent is ne’er made glorious summer. A gentleman wiser than myself did say that on some such days, thou exits, pursued by a bear, and on others, the bear exits, pursued by you.
By my troth, a good philosophy. Was’t of the Orient?
Nay, far from it. I mark well thy fashion, good Knave.
And I thy fashion, stranger.
If I may crave a boon, may I request
That thine ungracious mouth be less profane,
Spoke less in cursing word, and more in craft?
What dost thou speak upon, O damned fool?
I jest; well-spoken, Knave. Be of good ease;
Exeunt now, the tumbling tumbleweeds.