How now, wit, whither wander you?

Celia
How now, wit, whither wander you?
Touchstone
Mistress, you must come away to your father.

The more pity that fools may not speak
wisely what wise men do foolishly

Celia
Were you made the messenger?
Touchstone
No, by mine honor, but I was bid to come
for you.
Rosalind
Where learned you that oath, fool?
Touchstone
Of a certain knight that swore by his
honor they were good pancakes, and swore by his
honor the mustard was naught. Now, I'll stand to it,
the pancakes were naught and the mustard was
good, and yet was not the knight forsworn.
Celia
How prove you that in the great heap of your knowledge?
Rosalind
Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
Touchstone
Stand you both forth now: stroke your
chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave.
Celia
By our beards (if we had them), thou art.
Touchstone
By my knavery (if I had it), then I were.
But if you swear by that that is not, you are not
forsworn. No more was this knight swearing by his
honor, for he never had any, or if he had, he had
sworn it away before ever he saw those pancakes or
that mustard.
Celia
Prithee, who is ‘t that thou mean'st?
Touchstone
One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
Celia
My father's love is enough to honor him.
Enough. Speak no more of him; you'll be whipped
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.