Cel. No; when Nature hath made a faire creature, may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? though nature hath giuen vs wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this foole to cut off the argument? Ros. Indeed there is fortune too hard for nature, when fortune makes natures naturall, the cutter off of natures witte Cel. Peraduenture this is not Fortunes work neither, but Natures, who perceiueth our naturall wits too dull to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this Naturall for our whetstone: for alwaies the dulnesse of the foole, is the whetstone of the wits. How now Witte, whether wander you? Clow. Mistresse, you must come away to your father Cel. Were you made the messenger? Clo. No by mine honor, but I was bid to come for you Ros. Where learned you that oath foole? Clo. Of a certaine Knight, that swore by his Honour they were good Pan-cakes, and swore by his Honor the Mustard was naught: Now Ile stand to it, the Pancakes were naught, and the Mustard was good, and yet was not the Knight forsworne Cel. How proue you that in the great heape of your knowledge? Ros. I marry, now vnmuzzle your wisedome Clo. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chinnes, and sweare by your beards that I am a knaue Cel. By our beards (if we had them) thou art Clo. By my knauerie (if I had it) then I were: but if you sweare by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no more was this knight swearing by his Honor, for he neuer had anie; or if he had, he had sworne it away, before euer he saw those Pancakes, or that Mustard Cel. Prethee, who is't that thou means't? Clo. One that old Fredericke your Father loues Ros. My Fathers loue is enough to honor him enough; speake no more of him, you'l be whipt for taxation one of these daies Clo. The more pittie that fooles may not speak wisely, what Wisemen do foolishly Cel. By my troth thou saiest true: For, since the little wit that fooles haue was silenced, the little foolerie that wise men haue makes a great shew; Heere comes Monsieur the Beu. Enter le Beau. Ros. With his mouth full of newes Cel. Which he will put on vs, as Pigeons feed their young Ros. Then shal we be newes-cram'd Cel. All the better: we shalbe the more Marketable. Boon-iour Monsieur le Beu, what's the newes? Le Beu. Faire Princesse, you haue lost much good sport Cel. Sport: of what colour? Le Beu. What colour Madame? How shall I aunswer you? Ros. As wit and fortune will Clo. Or as the destinies decrees Cel. Well said, that was laid on with a trowell Clo. Nay, if I keepe not my ranke Ros. Thou loosest thy old smell Le Beu. You amaze me Ladies: I would haue told you of good wrastling, which you haue lost the sight of Ros. Yet tell vs the manner of the Wrastling Le Beu. I wil tell you the beginning: and if it please your Ladiships, you may see the end, for the best is yet to doe, and heere where you are, they are comming to performe it