Foul. Assure thy selfe, page, my Lord loves a foole, as he loves himselfe.
Ia. Of what degree wood you have your Foole Sir? for you may have of all manner of degrees.
Foul. Faith, I wood have him a good Emphaticall Foole, one that wood make my Lord laugh well, and I carde not.
Wil. Laugh well (um): then we must know this, Sir, is your Lord costive of laughter, or laxative of laughter?
Foul. Nay he is a good merry little Lord, and indeed sometimes Laxative of Laughter.
Wil. Why then sir the lesse wit will serue his Lordships turne, marry if he had bin costive of laughter he must have had two or three drams of wit the more in his foole, for we must minister according to the quantity of his Lord[ship's] humor, you know, and if he shood have as much witt in his foole being laxative of laughter, as if he were costive of Laughter, why he might laugh himselfe into an Epilepsie, and fall down dead sodainly, as many have done with the extremity of that passion; and I know your Lord cares for nothing, but the health of a Foole.
Foul. Thart ith right, my notable good page.
Ia. Why, and for that health, sir, we will warrant his Lordship, that if he should have all Bacon[30] de sanitate tuenda read to him, it shood not please his Lordship so well as our Foole shall.
Foul. Remercy, my more then English pages.
Goos. A my word I have not seene pages have so much wit, that have never bin in France Captaine.