Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/83

 Doctor. Now let me come to him: Are you mad (My Lord?) are you out of your Princely wits?

Ferd. What's he?

Pesc. Your Doctor.

Ferd. Let me have his beard saw'd off, and his eye Browes fil'd more civill.

Doct. I must do mad trickes with him, For that's the onely way on't. I have brought Your grace a Salamanders skin, to keepe you From sun-burning.

Ferd. I have cruell sore eyes.

Doct. The white of a Cockatrixes-egge is present remedy.

Ferd. Let it be new layd one, you were best: Hide me from him: Physitians are like Kings, They brooke no contradiction.

Doct. Now he begins to feare me, Now let me alone with him.

Card. How now, put off your gowne?

Doct. Let me have some forty urinalls fill'd with Rose-water: He, and I'll go pelt one an other with them, Now he begins to feare me: Can you fetch a friske, sir? Let him go, let him go upon my perrill: I finde by his eye, he stands in awe of me, I'll make him, as tame as a Dormouse.

Ferd. Can you fetch your friskes, sir: I will stamp him into a Cullice: Flea off his skin, to cover one of the Anotomies, This rogue hath set i'th'cold yonder, in Barber-Chyrurgeons hall: Hence, hence, you are all of you, like beasts for sacrifice, There's nothing left of you, but tongue, and belly, Flattery, and leachery.

Pes. Doctor, he did not feare you throughly.

Doct. True, I was somewhat to forward.

Bos. Mercy upon me, what a fatall judgement Hath falne upon this Ferdinand?

Pes. Knowes your grace What accident hath brought unto the Prince, This strange distraction?

Card. I must faigne somewhat: Thus they say it grew,