CASTRUCCIO. She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful fellow, to lie,
like the children of Ismael, all in tents.<6>
FERDINAND. Why, there's a wit were able to undo all the
chirurgeons<7> o' the city; for although gallants should quarrel,
and had drawn their weapons, and were ready to go to it, yet her
persuasions would make them put up.
CASTRUCCIO. That she would, my lord.--How do you like my Spanish
gennet?<8>
RODERIGO. He is all fire.
FERDINAND. I am of Pliny's opinion, I think he was begot
by the wind; he runs as if he were ballass'd<9> with quicksilver.
SILVIO. True, my lord, he reels from the tilt often.
RODERIGO, GRISOLAN. Ha, ha, ha!
FERDINAND. Why do you laugh? Methinks you that are courtiers
should be my touch-wood, take fire when I give fire; that is,
laugh when I laugh, were the subject never so witty.
CASTRUCCIO. True, my lord: I myself have heard a very good jest,
and have scorn'd to seem to have so silly a wit as to understand it.
FERDINAND. But I can laugh at your fool, my lord.
CASTRUCCIO. He cannot speak, you know, but he makes faces; my lady
cannot abide him.
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