[Exeunt Guests.]
Philosopher. And now I would ask thy Drummer-Boy a riddle.
Queen. Thou mayst ask. Attend, sirrah.
Philosopher. Where maketh the bumblebee his nest?
Drummer-Boy. I think in the hollow of a tree.
Queen. Go, child, find the bumblebee's nest, and answer his riddle.
Philosopher. But look not in hollow trees.
[Exit Drummer-Boy.]
Queen. Knowest thou thyself the answers to thine own riddles?