CUP. Is that a courtier, too.

MER. Troth, no; he has two essential parts of the courtier, pride
and ignorance; marry, the rest come somewhat after the ordinary
gallant. 'Tis Impudence itself, Anaides; one that speaks all that
comes in his cheeks, and will blush no more than a sackbut. He
lightly occupies the jester's room at the table, and keeps
laughter, Gelaia, a wench in page's attire, following him in place
of a squire, whom he now and then tickles with some strange
ridiculous stuff, utter'd as his land came to him, by chance. He
will censure or discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as you
would wish. His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that is
beneath him in clothes. He never drinks below the salt. He does
naturally admire his wit that wears gold lace, or tissue: stabs
any man that speaks more contemptibly of the scholar than he. He
is a great proficient in all the illiberal sciences, as cheating,
drinking, swaggering, whoring, and such like: never kneels but to
pledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of pudding-tobacco. He
will blaspheme in his shirt. The oaths which he vomits at one
supper would maintain a town of garrison in good swearing a
twelvemonth. One other genuine quality he has which crowns all
these, and that is this: to a friend in want, he will not depart
with the weight of a soldered groat, lest the world might censure
him prodigal, or report him a gull: marry, to his cockatrice or
punquetto, half a dozen taffata gowns or satin kirtles in a pair or
two of months, why, they are nothing.

CUP. I commend him, he is one of my clients.