Hip. Indeed.
Mons. Nay, sans vanité, I observe, wheresoe'er I come, I make everybody merry; sans vanité—da—
Hip. I do believe you do.
Mons. Nay, as I marche in de street, I can make de dull apprenty laugh and sneer.
Hip. This fool, I see, is as apt as an ill poet to mistake the contempt and scorn of people for applause and admiration. [Aside.
Mons. Ah, cousin, you see what it is to have been in France! Before I went into France, I could get nobody to laugh at me, ma foi!
Hip. No? truly, cousin, I think you deserved it before; but you are improved, indeed, by going into France.
Mons. Ay, ay, the French education make us propre à tout. Beside, cousin, you must know, to play the fool is the science in France, and I didde go to the Italian academy at Paris thrice a-week to learn to play de fool of Signior Scaramouche,[60] who is the most excellent personage in the world for dat noble science. Angel is a dam English fool to him.
Hip. Methinks, now, Angel is a very good fool.
Mons. Naugh, naugh, Nokes is a better fool; but indeed the Englis are not fit to be fools: here are ver few good fools. 'Tis true, you have many a young cavalier who go over into France to learn to be de buffoon; but for all dat, dey return but mauvais buffoon, jarni!