A III
S I
O’
Enter Viola and Clown with a tabor.
VIOLA.
Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live by thy tabor?
CLOWN.
No, sir, I live by the church.
VIOLA.
Art thou a churchman?
CLOWN.
No such matter, sir. I do live by the church, for I do live at my house,
and my house doth stand by the church.
VIOLA.
So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the
church.
CLOWN.
You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a chev’ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
