[EXIT.

FAST. How lik'st thou my boy, Carlo?

CAR. O, well, well. He looks like a colonel of the Pigmies horse, or one
of these motions in a great antique clock; he would shew well upon a
haberdasher's stall, at a corner shop, rarely.

FAST. 'Sheart, what a damn'd witty rogue's this! How he confounds with
his similes!

CAR. Better with similes than smiles: and whither were you riding now,
signior?

FAST. Who, I? What a silly jest's that! Whither should I ride but to the
court?

CAR. O, pardon me, sir, twenty places more; your hot-house, or your
whore-house --

FAST. By the virtue of my soul, this knight dwells in Elysium here.

CAR. He's gone now, I thought he would fly out presently. These be our
nimble-spirited catsos, that have their evasions at pleasure, will run over
a bog like your wild Irish; no sooner started, but they'll leap from one
thing to another, like a squirrel, heigh! dance and do tricks in their
discourse, from fire to water, from water to air, from air to earth, as if
their tongues did but e'en lick the four elements over, and away.

FAST. Sirrah, Carlo, thou never saw'st my gray hobby yet, didst thou?