Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/82

 Upon his shoulder; and he howl'd fearefully: Said he was a Woolffe: onely the difference Was, a Woolffes skinne was hairy on the out-side, His on the In-side: bad them take their swords, Rip up his flesh, and trie: straight I was sent for, And having ministerd to him, found his Grace Very well recovered.

Pesc. I am glad on't.

Doc. Yet not without some feare Of a relaps: if he grow to his fit againe I'll goe a neerer way to worke with him Then ever Paraclesus dream'd of: If They'll give me leave I'll buffet his madnesse out of him. Stand aside: he comes.

Ferd. Leave me.

Mal. Why doth your Lordship love this solitarines?

Ferd. Eagles cōmonly fly alone: They are Crowes, Dawes, and Sterlings that flocke together: Looke, what's that, Followes me?

Mal. Nothing (my Lord)

Ferd. Yes:

Mal. 'Tis your shadow.

Ferd. Stay it, let it not haunt me.

Mal. Impossible; if you move, and the Sun shine:

Ferd. I will throtle it.

Mal. Oh, my Lord: you are angry with nothing.

Ferd. You are a foole: How is't possible I should catch my shadow Unlesse I fall upon't? When I goe to Hell, I meane to carry a bribe: for looke you Good guifts ever-more make way, for the worst persons.

Pesc. Rise good my Lord.

Ferd. I am studying the Art of Patience.

Pesc. 'Tis a noble Vertue;

Ferd. To drive six Snailes before me, from this towne To Mosco; neither use Goad, nor Whip to them, But let them take their owne time: (the patientst man i'th' world Match me for an experiment) and I'll crawle after Like a sheepe-biter.

Card. Force him up.

Ferd. Use me well, you were best: What I have don, I have don: I'll confesse nothing.