Alph. How comes this English mad man here?
Mast. Alas, that's no question;
They are mad every where, Sir;
Their fits are cool now, let 'em rest.
Enter Keepers and She-fools.
Alph. Mad Gallants;
Most admirable mad; I love their faces.
1 Keep. Ye stinking Whore, who knew of this? who lookt to him?
'Pox take him, he was sleepy when I left him.
2 Keep. Certain he made the fool drunk.
Mast. How now, who's this here?
Where is the Boy?
1 Keep. The Boy, Sir?
Mast. I, the Boy, Sir.
1 Keep. Here's all the Boys we found.