Ol. Make your proofe
Clo. I must catechize you for it Madona, Good my
Mouse of vertue answer mee
Ol. Well sir, for want of other idlenesse, Ile bide your
proofe
Clo. Good Madona, why mournst thou?
Ol. Good foole, for my brothers death
Clo. I thinke his soule is in hell, Madona
Ol. I know his soule is in heauen, foole
Clo. The more foole (Madona) to mourne for your
Brothers soule, being in heauen. Take away the Foole,
Gentlemen
Ol. What thinke you of this foole Maluolio, doth he not mend? Mal. Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him: Infirmity that decaies the wise, doth euer make the better foole
Clow. God send you sir, a speedie Infirmity, for the better increasing your folly: Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no Fox, but he wil not passe his word for two pence that you are no Foole
Ol. How say you to that Maluolio? Mal. I maruell your Ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascall: I saw him put down the other day, with an ordinary foole, that has no more braine then a stone. Looke you now, he's out of his gard already: vnles you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gag'd. I protest I take these Wisemen, that crow so at these set kinde of fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies