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  Yonder fools will spoil the game. If they pick up the glove, a long farewell To the catastrophe! We must prevent them From wrecking everything. Trick. But, prithee, how?
 * [ shakes his head with a knowing air.

The Champion [still holding his sword aloft. So no one doth respond to me? Gramadoch [leaping down from the gallery into the hall. Yes, I!
 * [Amazement in the crowd.

The Champion [surprised. Thou dost pick up the glove? Gramadoch [picking it up.] Ay, that I do. The Champion.Who art thou, pray? Gramadoch. A dealer in grimaces, E'en as thou art. Our masks alike deceive. Mine causes laughter, and thine fear; that's all. The Champion. Thou seem'st to me a knave. Gramadoch. And thou likewise. The Champion [to the halberdiers. A fool. Gramadoch. Just so—from taste and theory. I 'm of the court, in the quality of fool, As thou hast said. A Voice in the Crowd.The clown doth risk his neck. 'Tis one of Noll's, four fools.—A daring step!— Is he a very fool? Milton. What is this folly?
 * [Loud bursts of laughter in the Jesters' gallery.

Gramadoch.Come! let us take the field. The Champion. Thou wretched mummer! Begone, or I will have thee whipped.