Lieutenant. And so, good fellow, you are a jester?

Point. Aye, sir, and like some of my jests, out of place.

Lieutenant. I have a vacancy for such an one. Tell me, what are your qualifications for such a post?

Point. Marry, sir, I have a pretty wit. I can rhyme you extempore; I can convulse you with quip and conundrum; I have the lighter philosophies at my tongue's tip; I can be merry, wise, quaint, grim, and sardonic, one by one, or all at once; I have a pretty turn for anecdote; I know all the jests — ancient and modern — past, present, and to come; I can riddle you from dawn of day to set of sun, and, if that content you not, well on to midnight and the small hours. Oh, sir, a pretty wit, I warrant you — a pretty, pretty wit!

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