MACI. Nay, lady, do not scorn us, though you have this gift of perspicacy above others. What if he should be no gentleman now, but a clown indeed, lady? PUNT. How think you of that? would not your ladyship be Out of your Humour? FAST. O, but she knows it is not so. SAV. What if he were not a man, ye may as well say? Nay, if your worships could gull me so, indeed, you were wiser than you are taken for. MACI. In good faith, lady, he is a very perfect clown, both by father and mother; that I'll assure you. SAV. O, sir, you are very pleasurable. MACI. Nay, do but look on his hand, and that shall resolve you; look you, lady, what a palm here is. SOG. Tut, that was with holding the plough. MACI. The plough! did you discern any such thing in him, madam? FAST. Faith no, she saw the gentleman as bright as noon-day, she; she deciphered him at first. MACI. Troth, I am sorry your ladyship's sight should be so suddenly struck. SAV. O, you are goodly beagles! FAST. What, is she gone? SOG. Nay, stay, sweet lady: 'que novelles? que novelles?' SAV. Out, you fool, you! [EXIT IN ANGER. FUNG. She's Out of her Humour, i'faith. FAST. Nay, let's follow it while 'tis hot, gentlemen. PUNT. Come, on mine honour we shall make her blush in the presence; my spleen is great with laughter. MACI. Your laughter will be a child of a feeble life, I believe, sir. [ASIDE.] -- Come, signior, your looks are too dejected, methinks; why mix you not mirth with the rest? FUNG. Od's will, this suit frets me at the soul. I'll have it alter'd to-morrow, sure. SCENE III. -- THE PALACE STAIRS. ENTER SHIFT. SHIFT. I am come to the court, to meet with my Countenance, Sogliardo; poor men must be glad of such countenance, when they can get no better. Well, need may insult upon a man, but it shall never make him despair of consequence. The world will say, 'tis base: tush, base! 'tis base to live under the earth, not base to live above it by any means. ENTER FASTIDIOUS, PUNTARVOLO, SOGLIARDO, FUNGOSO, AND MACILENTE. FAST. The poor lady is most miserably out of her humour, i'faith. PUNT. There was never so witty a jest broken, at the tilt of all the court wits christen'd. MACI. O, this applause taints it foully. SOG. I think I did my part in courting. -- O, Resolution! PUNT. Ay me, my dog! MACI. Where is he? FAST. 'Sprecious, go seek for the fellow, good signior [EXIT FUNGOSO. PUNT. Here, here I left him. MACI. Why, none was here when we came in now, but cavalier Shirt; enquire of him. FAST. Did you see sir Puntarvolo's dog here, cavalier, since you came? SHIFT. His dog, sir! he may look his dog, sir; I saw none of his dog, sir.