Boast it even to my face, audacious stripling!
Such insolence, and these coarse rustic weeds
Are contradictions. Answer me, who art thou?
Theod. Less than I should be; more than what I seem.
Count. Hence with this saucy ambiguity.
What is thy name, thy country? That mean habit,
Which should teach humbleness, speaks thy condition.
Theod. My name is Theodore, my country, France,
My habit little suited to my mind,
Less to my birth, yet fit for my condition.