“Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'st? TOUCHSTONE One that old Frederick, your father, loves. CELIA My father's love is enough to honour him enough: speak no more of him: you'll be whipp'd for taxation one of these days. TOUCHSTONE The more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
CELIA By my troth, thou sayest true: for since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.
ROSALIND With his mouth full of news.”