PESCARA. Rise, good my lord.
FERDINAND. I am studying the art of patience.
PESCARA. 'Tis a noble virtue.
FERDINAND. To drive six snails before me from this town to Moscow;
neither use goad nor whip to them, but let them take their own time;
--the patient'st man i' th' world match me for an experiment:--
an I 'll crawl after like a sheep-biter.<125>
CARDINAL. Force him up.
[They raise him.]
FERDINAND. Use me well, you were best. What I have done, I have
done: I 'll confess nothing.
DOCTOR. Now let me come to him.--Are you mad, my lord? are you out
of your princely wits?
FERDINAND. What 's he?
PESCARA. Your doctor.
FERDINAND. Let me have his beard saw'd off, and his eye-brows
fil'd more civil.
DOCTOR. I must do mad tricks with him, for that 's the only way
on 't.--I have brought your grace a salamander's skin to keep
you from sun-burning.
FERDINAND. I have cruel sore eyes.
DOCTOR. The white of a cockatrix's<126> egg is present remedy.
FERDINAND. Let it be a new-laid one, you were best.
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