Oli. Take the fool away.
Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool: I'll no more of you; besides, you grow dishonest.
Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend; for, give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him.--The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Clo. Misprision in the highest degree!--Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
Oli. Can you do it?
Clo. Dexterously, good madonna.
Oli. Make your proof.
Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna: Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.