080 Cel. By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur [083] Le Beau.
[084] Ros. With his mouth full of news.
085 Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed.
[087] Cel. All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
Enter Le Beau.
[088] Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what’s the news?
[089] Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
[090] Cel. Sport! of what colour?
Le Beau. What colour, madam! how shall I answer you?