_Ped._ It shall be welcome; come, let's keep up thus still, And be as we appear; Heavens hand may bless us. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _Enter_ Alphonso, _Master and Keepers_. _Mast._ Yes, Sir, here be such people; but how pleasing They will appear to you. _Alph._ 'Pray let me see 'em, I come to that end; 'pray let me see 'em all. _Mast._ They will confound ye, Sir, like Bells rung backward, They are nothing but Confusion, and meer Noises. _Alph._ May be I love a noise; but hark ye, Sir, Have ye no Boys? handsome young Boys? _Mast._ Yes, one, Sir, A very handsome Boy. _Alph._ Long here? _Mast._ But two days; A little crazed; but much hope of recovery. _Alph._ I, that Boy, let me see, may be I know him, That Boy I say; this is the Boy he told me of, And it must need be she; that Boy, I beseech ye, Sir, That Boy I come to see. _Mast._ And ye shall see him; Or any else: but pray be not too violent. _Alph._ I know what to do, I warrant ye; I am for all fancies; I can talk to 'em, and dispute. _1 Keep._ As madly; For they are very mad, Sir. _Alph._ Let 'em be horn-mad. _1 Keep._ We have few Citizens: they have Bedlams of their own, Sir, And are mad at their own charges. _Alph._ Who lyes here? _Mast._ 'Pray ye do not disturb 'em, Sir, here lie such youths Will make you start if they but dance their trenchmores, Fetch out the Boy, Sirrah; hark! [_Shake Irons within. English mad-men, Scholar, Parson, Jenkin._ _Alph._ Heigh Boys. _Eng._ Bounce, Clap her o'th' star-board; bounce, top the Can. _Schol._ Dead ye dog, dead, do ye quarrel in my Kingdom? Give me my trident. _Eng._ Bounce, 'twixt wind and water, Loaden with Mackrel; O brave meat. _Schol._ My Sea horses; I'll charge the Northern Wind, and break his Bladder. _Pars._ I'll sell my Bells before I be out-brav'd thus. _Alph._ What's he? what's he? _Mast._ A Parson, Sir, a Parson That run mad for tyth Goslings. _Alph._ Green sawce cure him. _Pars._ I'll curse ye all, I'll excommunicate ye; Thou _English_ Heretick, give me the tenth Pot. _Eng._ Sue me, I'll drink up all, bounce I say once more. O have I split your Mizen? blow, blow thou West-wind, Blow till thou rive, and make the Sea run roaring. I'll hiss it down again with a Bottle of Ale. _Schol. Triton_, why _Triton_. _Eng. Triton_'s drunk with _Metheglin_. _Seb._ Strike, strike the surges, strike. _Eng._ Drink, drink, 'tis day light; Drink, didle, didle, didle, drink, _Parson_, proud _Parson_; A Pigs tail in thy teeth, and I defie thee. _Par._ Give me some porridg, or I'll damn thee, _English_. _Alph._ How comes this _English_ mad man here? _Mast._ Alas, that's no question; They are mad every where, Sir; Their fits are cool now, let 'em rest.