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S. Ant. Dost thou not know?

S. Dro. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.

S. Ant. Shall I tell you why?

S. Dro. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say, every why hath a wherefore.

S. Ant.

Why first—for flouting me, and then wherefore—

For urging it the second time to me.

S. Dro.

Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,

When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason?

Well, sir, I thank you.

S. Ant. Thank me, sir, for what?

S. Dro. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.

S. Ant. I’ll make you amends next, to give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?

S. Dro. No, sir, I think the meat wants that I have.

S. Ant. In good time, sir: what’s that?

S. Dro. Basting.

S. Ant. Well, sir, then ’twill be dry.

S. Dro. If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of it.

S. Ant. Your reason?

S. Dro. Lest it make you choleric, and purchase me another dry basting.

S. Ant. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time—there’s a time for all things.

S. Dro. I durst have denied that before you were so choleric.