Chapter XXI: Act IV: , Scene I

[ANTONIO _solus_.]

ANT. Thus, by great favour of propitious stars,
From fearful storms, shipwreck and raging billows,
[And] merciless jaws of death, am I return'd
To th' safe and quiet bosom of my country
And wish'd embracements of my friends and kindred.
The memory of these misfortunes pass'd
Seasons the welcome, and augments the pleasure
I shall receive of my son Lelio
And daughter Flavia. So doth alloy
Make gold, that else were useless, serviceable;
So the rugg'd forehead of a threat'ning mountain
Heightens[327] the smoothness of a smiling valley.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ CRICCA.

CRI. What do I see? Is not this Trincalo,
Transform'd t' Antonio? 'tis: and so perfectly
That, did the right Antonio now confront him,
I'd swear they both were true, or both were false.

ANT. This man admires the unexpectedness
Of my return.

CRI. O wondrous power of stars,
And skill of art t' apply't! You that are married
May justly fear, lest this astrologer
Clothe your wives' servants in your shape, and use you
As Jupiter did Amphitryo. You, that are rich,
In your own form may lose your gold.

ANT. 'Tis Cricca.

CRI. He seems so just the man he represents,
That I dare hardly use him as I purpos'd.

ANT. Cricca, well-met; how fares my friend Pandolfo?

CRI. Your friend Pandolfo! how are your means improv'd,
To style familiarly your master friend?

ANT. What say'st thou?

CRI. That I rejoice your worship's safe return

From your late drowning. Th' Exchange hath giv'n you lost,
And all your friends worn mourning three months past.

ANT. The danger of the shipwreck I escap'd
So desperate was, that I may truly say
I am new-born, not sav'd.

CRI. Ha, ha, ha! through what a grace
And goodly countenance the rascal speaks!
What a grave portance! could Antonio
Himself outdo him? O you notorious villain!
Who would have thought thou couldst have thus dissembled?

ANT. How now! a servant thus familiar? Sirrah,
Use your companions so: more reverence
Becomes you better.

CRI. As though I understood not
The end of all this plot and goodly business.
Come, I know all. See! this untill'd clod of earth
Conceits his mind transform'd as well as body.
He wrings and bites his lips for fear of laughing.
Ha, ha, ha!

ANT. Why laugh you, sirrah?

CRI. Sirrah, to see thee chang'd
So strangely, that I cannot spy an inch
Of thy old clownish carcase: ha, ha!

ANT. Laughter proceeds
From absurd actions that are harmless.

CRI. Ha, ha, ha!
Sententious blockhead!

ANT. And y' are ill-advis'd
To jest instead of pity. Alas! my miseries,
Dangers of death, slav'ry of cruel Moors
And tedious journeys, might have easily alter'd
A stronger body, much more this decay'd vessel,
Out-worn with age, and broken by misfortunes.

CRI. Leave your set speeches. Go to Antonio's house,
Effect your business; for, upon my credit,
Th' art so well-turn'd, they dare not but accept thee.

ANT. Where should I hope for welcome, if not there--
From my own house, children, and family?

CRI. Is't possible this coxcomb should conceive
His mind transform'd? How gravely he continues
The countenance he began! ha, ha! Why, blockhead,
Think'st to deceive me too? Why, Trincalo!

ANT. I understand you not. Hands off.

CRI. Art not thou Trincalo,
Pandolfo's man?

ANT. I not so much as know him.

CRI. Dar'st thou deny't to me?

ANT. I dare, and must
To all the world, long as Antonio lives.

CRI. You arrant ass! have I not known thee serve
My master in his farm this thirteen years?

ANT. By all the oaths that bind men's consciences
To truth, I am Antonio, and no other.

SCENE III.

_Enter_ PANDOLFO.

PAN. What means this noise? O Cricca! what's the matter?

CRI. Sir, here's your farmer Trincalo, transform'd
So just, as he were melted, and new-cast
In the true mould of old Antonio.

PAN. Th' right eye's no liker to the left, than he
To my good neighbour. Divine Albumazar!
How I admire thy skill! Just so he look'd,
And thus he walk'd: this is his face, his hair:
His eyes and countenance. If his voice be like,
Then is th' astrologer a wonder-worker.

ANT. Signior Pandolfo, I thank the heavens as much
To find you well, as for my own return.
How does your daughter and my love Sulpitia?

PAN. Well, well, sir.

CRI. This is a good beginning:
How naturally the rogue dissembles it!
With what a gentle garb and civil grace
He speaks and looks! How cunningly Albumazar
Hath for our purpose suited him in Barbary clothes!
I'll try him further, sir; we heard
You were drown'd; pray you, how 'scap'd you shipwreck?

ANT. No sooner was I shipp'd for Barbary,
But fair wind follow'd, and fair weather led us.
When, enter'd in the straits of Gibraltar,
The heavens, and seas, and earth conspir'd against us;
The tempest tore our helm, and rent our tackles,
Broke the mainmast, while all the sea about us
Stood up in wat'ry mountains to o'erwhelm us,
And struck's against a rock, splitting the vessel
T' a thousand splinters. I, with two mariners,
Swam to the coast, where by the barbarous Moors
We were surpris'd, fetter'd, and sold for slaves.

CRI. This tale th' astrologer penn'd, and he hath conn'd it.

ANT. But by a gentleman of Italy,
Whom I had known before----

PAN. No more; this taste
Proves thou canst play the rest. For this fair story,
My hand; I make thy ten pounds twenty marks,
Thou look'st and speak'st so like Antonio.

ANT. Whom should I look and speak like, but myself?

CRI. Good still!

PAN. But now, my honest Trincalo,
Tell me where's all the plate, the gold, and jewels,
That the astrologer, when he had transform'd thee,
Committed to thy charge? are they safe-lock'd?

ANT. I understand you not.

PAN. The jewels, man;
The plate and gold th' astrologer that chang'd thee
Bad thee lay up.

ANT. What plate? What gold? What jewels?
What transformation? What astrologer?

CRI. Leave off Antonio now, and speak like Trincalo.

ANT. Leave off your jesting. It neither fits your place
Nor age, Pandolfo, to scoff your ancient friend.
I know not what you mean by gold and jewels,
Nor by th' astrologer, nor Trincalo.

CRI. Better and better still. Believe me, sir,
He thinks himself Antonio, and ever shall be,
And so possess your plate. Art thou not Trincalo,
My master's farmer?

ANT. I am Antonio,
Your master's friend, if he teach you more manners.

PAN. Humour of wiving's gone. Farewell, good Flavia.
Three thousand pound must not be lost so slightly.
Come, sir; we'll drag you to th' astrologer,
And turn you to your ragged bark of yeomanry.

ANT. To me these terms?

PAN. Come, I'll not lose my plate.

CRI. Stay, sir, and take my counsel. Let him still
Firmly conceit himself the man he seems:
Thus he, himself deceiv'd, will far more earnestly
Effect your business, and deceive the rest.
There's a main difference 'twixt a self-bred action
And a forc'd carriage. Suffer him, then, to enter
Antonio's house, and wait th' event: for him,
He cannot 'scape: what you intend to do,
Do't, when he has serv'd your turn. I see the maid;
Let's hence, lest they suspect our consultations.

PAN. Thy counsel's good: away.

CRI. Look, Trincalo,
Yonder's your beauteous mistress Armellina,
And, [sir, your] daughter Flavia. Courage, I warrant thee.
[_Exeunt_ PANDOLFO _and_ CRICCA.

ANT. Bless'd be the heav'ns that rid me of this trouble;
For with their farmer and astrologer,
Plate and gold, they have almost madded me.

SCENE IV.

FLAVIA, ARMELLINA, ANTONIO.

FLA. Armellina.

ARM. Mistress.

FLA. Is the door fast?

ARM. Yes, as an usurer's purse.

FLA. Come hither, wench.
Look here; there's Trincalo, Pandolfo's farmer,
Wrapp'd in my father's shape: prythee, come quickly,
And help me to abuse him.

ARM. Notorious clown!

ANT. These are my gates, and that's the cabinet,
That keeps my jewels, Lelio and his sister.

FLA. Never was villainy so personate
In seemly properties of gravity. [ANTONIO _knocks_.

FLA. Who's he that knocks so boldly?

ARM. What want you, sir?

ANT. O my fair daughter Flavia! let all the stars
Pour down full blessings on thee. Ope the doors.

FLA. Mark! his fair daughter Flavia, ha, ha, ha!
Most shameless villain, how he counterfeits!

ANT. Know'st not thy father, old Antonio?
Is all the world grown frantic?

FLA. What, Antonio?

ANT. Thy loving father, Flavia.

FLA. My father!
Would thou wert in his place. Antonio's dead,
Dead, under water drown'd.

ANT. That dead and drown'd
Am I.

FLA. I love not to converse with dead men.

ANT. Ope the door, sweet Flavia.

FLA. Sir, I am afeard;
Horror incloses me, my hairs stand up,
I sweat to hear a dead man speak: you smell
Of putrefaction; fie! I feel't hither.

ANT. Th' art much abus'd; I live. Come down, and know me.

ARM. Mistress, let me have some sport too.
Who's there?

ANT. Let me come in.

ARM. Soft, soft, sir; y' are too hasty.

ANT. Quickly, or else----

ARM. Good words, good words, I pray, sir,
In strangers' houses! were the doors your own,
You might be bolder.

ANT. I'll beat the doors and windows
About your ears.

ARM. Are you so hot? We'll cool you.
Since your late drowning, your grey and reverend head
Is smear'd with ooze, and stuck with cockle-shells:
This is to wash it. [_Throws water on him._

ANT. Impudent whore!

ARM. Out, carter:
Hence, dirty whipstock,[328] hence,
You foul clown; begone, or all the water
I can make or borrow shall once more drown you.

SCENE V.

LELIO, ANTONIO, ARMELLINA.

LEL. Armellina, whom do you draw your tongue upon so sharply?

ARM. Sir, 'tis your father's ghost, that strives by force
To break the doors, and enter.

LEL. This! his grave looks!
In every lineament himself no liker.
Had I not happily been advertised,
What could have forc'd me think 'twere Trincalo?
Doubtless th' astrologer hath rais'd a ghost,
That walks in th' reverend shape of my dead father.

ANT. These ghosts, these Trincalos, and astrologers,
Strike me beside myself. Who will receive me,
When mine own son refuseth? O Antonio!

LEL. Infinite power of art! who would believe
The planets' influence could transform a man
To several shapes? I could now beat him soundly,
But that he wears the awful countenance
Of my dead father, whose memory I reverence.

ANT. If I be chang'd beyond thy knowledge, son,

Consider that th' excess of heat in Barbary,
The fear of shipwreck, and long tedious journeys,
Have tann'd my skin, and shrunk my eyes and cheeks;
Yet still this face, though alter'd, may be known:
This scar bears witness; 'twas the wound thou cur'dst
With thine own hands.

LEL. He that chang'd Trincalo
T' Antonio's figure omitted not the scar
As a main character.

ANT. I have no other marks
Or reasons to persuade thee: methinks these words,[329]
_I am thy father_, were argument sufficient
To bend thy knees, and creep to my embracement.

LEL. A sudden coldness strikes me: my tender heart[330]
Beats with compassion of I know not what.
Sirrah, begone; truss up your goodly speeches,
Sad shipwrecks and strange transformations;
Your plot's discover'd, 'twill not take: thy impudence
For once I pardon. The pious reverence
I owe to th' grave resemblance of my father
Holds back my angry hands. Hence! if I catch you
Haunting my doors again, I'll bastinado you
Out of Antonio's skin. Away.

ANT. I go, sir;
And yield to such cross fortune as thus drives me. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

TRINCALO, _and_ BEVILONA _dressing him_.

TRIN. When this transformed substance[331] of my carcase
Did live imprison'd in a wanton hogshead,
My name was Don Antonio, and that title
Preserv'd my life, and chang'd my suit of clothes.
How kindly the good gentlewoman used me!
With what respect and careful tenderness!

[BEV.] Your worship, sir, had ever a sickly constitution, and I fear much more now, since your long travel. As you love me, off with these wet things, and put on the suit you left with me, before you went to Barbary. Good sir, neglect not your health; for, upon my experience, there is nothing worse for the rheum than to be drenched in a musty hogshead.

[TRIN.] Pretty soul! such another speech would have drawn off my legs and arms, as easily as hose and doublet. Had I been Trincalo, I'd have sworn th' had cheated: but, fie! 'tis base and clownish to suspect, and ['tis] a gentleman's freeness to part with a cast suit. Now to the business: I'll into my own house, and first bestow Armellina upon Trincalo; then try what can be done for Pandolfo: for 'tis a rule I want t' observe, first do your own affairs, and next your master's. This word master makes me doubt I am not changed as I should be. But all's one: I'll venture, and do something worthy Antonio's name while I have it.

SCENE VII.

ANTONIO, TRINCALO.

ANT. Wretched Antonio! hast been preserv'd so strangely
From foreign miseries, to be wrong'd at home?
Barr'd from thy house by the scorn of thine own children?
[TRINCALO _knocks_.
But stay, there's one knocks boldly; 't may be some friend.
[TRINCALO _knocks again_.
Dwell you here, gentleman?

TRIN. He calls me gentleman:
See th' virtue of good clothes! All men salute,
Honour, respect, and reverence us.

ANT. Young gentleman,
Let me without offence entreat your name,
And why you knock?

TRIN. How, sirrah saucebox, my name!
Or thou some stranger art or grossly ignorant,
That know'st not me. Ha! what art thou that ask'st it?

ANT. Be not in choler, sir.

TRIN. Befits it me,
A gentleman of public reputation,
To stoop so low as satisfy the questions
Of base and earthly pieces like thyself?
What art thou? ha?

ANT. Th' unfortunate possessor of this house.

TRIN. Thou liest, base sycophant, my worship owes[332] it.

ANT. May be, my son hath sold it in my absence,
Thinking me dead. How long has't call'd you master?

TRIN. 'Long as Antonio possess'd it

ANT. Which Antonio?

TRIN. Antonio Anastasio.

ANT. That Anastasio,
That was drown'd in Barbary?

TRIN. That Anastasio,
That selfsame man, am I: I 'scap'd by swimming,
And now return to keep my former promise
Of Flavia to Pandolfo; and, in exchange,
To take Sulpitia to my wife.

ANT. All this
I intended 'fore I went: but, sir, if I
Can be no other than myself, and you
Are that Antonio, you and I are one.

TRIN. How? one with thee? speak such another syllable, [_Draws._
And, by the terror of this deadly steel,
That ne'er saw light, but sent to endless darkness
All that durst stand before't, thou diest.

ANT. Alas! My weakness, grown by age and pains of travel,
Disarms my courage to defend myself;
I have no strength, but patience.

TRIN. What art now? [_Threatens him._

ANT. Peter and Thomas, William, what you please.

TRIN. What boldness madded thee to steal my name?

ANT. Sir, heat of wine.

TRIN. And, sirrah, when y' are drunk,
Is there no person to put on but mine,
To cover your intended villanies?

ANT. But, good sir, if I be not I, who am I?

TRIN. An ox, an ass, a dog.

ANT. Strange negligence
To lose myself! methinks I live and move--
Remember. Could the fearful apprehension
Or[333] th' ugly fear of drowning so transform me?
Or did I die, and by Pythagoras' rule,
My soul's provided of another lodging?

TRIN. Be what thou wilt, except Antonio:
'Tis death to touch that name.

ANT. Dangers at sea
Are pleasures, weigh'd with these home-injuries.
Was ever man thus scar'd beside himself?
0 most unfortunate Antonio!
At sea thou suffer'dst shipwreck of thy goods,
At land of thine own self. Antonio--
Or what name else they please--fly, fly to Barbary!
And rather there endure the foreign cruelty
Of fetters, whips, and Moors, than here at home
Be wrong'd and baffled by thy friends and children.

TRIN. How! prating still? why, Timothy, begone,
Or draw, and lay Antonio down betwixt us?
Let fortune of the fight decide the question.
Here's a brave rogue, that in the king's highway
Offers to rob me of my good name. Draw!

ANT. These wrongs recall my strength, I am resolv'd:
Better die once, than suffer always. Draw!

TRIN. Stay: understand'st thou well nice points of duel?
Art born of gentle blood and pure descent?[334]
Was none of all thy lineage hang'd or cuckold,
Bastard or bastinado'd? Is thy pedigree
As long, as wide, as mine? for otherwise
Thou wert most unworthy; and 'twere loss of honour
In me to fight. More, I have drawn five teeth:[335]
If thine stand sound, the terms are much unequal.
And, by strict laws of duel, I am excus'd
To fight on disadvantage.

ANT. This is some ass!

TRIN. If we concur in all, write a formal challenge,
And bring thy second: meanwhile, I make provision
Of Calais sand,[336] to fight upon securely. Ha!
[_Exit_ ANTONIO.

SCENE VIII.

LELIO, CRICCA, TRINCALO.

LEL. Am I awake? or do deceitful dreams
Present to my wild fancy things I see not?

CRI. Sir, what amazement's this? Why wonder you?

LEL. See'st thou not Trincalo and Antonio?

CRI. O, strange! they're both here.

LEL. Didst not thou inform me
That Trincalo was turn'd to Antonio?
Which I believing, like a cursed son,
With most reproachful threats drove mine old father
From his own doors; and yet rest doubtful whether
This be the true Antonio: maybe, th' astrologer
Hath chang'd some other, and not Trincalo.

CRI. No, fear it not, 'tis plain: Albumazar
Hath cheated my old master of his plate.
For here's the farmer, as like himself as ever;
Only his clothes excepted. Trincalo.

TRIN. Cricca, where's Trincalo? Dost see him here?

CRI. Yes, and as rank an ass as e'er he was.

TRIN. Thou'rt much deceiv'd: thou neither see'st nor know'st me.
I am transform'd, transform'd.

CRI. Th' art still thyself.
Lelio, this farmer's half a fool, half knave;
And as Pandolfo did with much entreaty
Persuade him to transform, so, as much labour
Will hardly bring the coxcomb to himself,
That ne'er was out on't. Who art, if not he?

TRIN. My name is Don Antonio: I am now going
To my own house, to give Pandolfo Flavia,
And Armellina to his farmer Trincalo.
How dar'st thou, Cricca (but a meaner servant),
Resemble me (a man of worth and worship),
To such a clown as Trincalo, a branded fool,
An ass, a laughing-stock to town and country?
Art not asham'd to name him with Antonio?

LEL. Do not thy actions, with thy rude behaviour,
Proclaim thee what thou art?

CRI. Notorious clown! [_Beats him._

TRIN. Villain! th' hast broke my shoulders.

LEL. O, didst feel him?

TRIN. Ay, with a pox.

LEL. Then th' art still Trincalo,
For, hadst thou been Antonio, he had smarted.

TRIN. I feel it, as I am Antonio.

CRI. Fool! who loves Armellina?

TRIN. 'Tis I, 'tis I.

CRI. Antonio never lov'd his kitchen-maid.

TRIN. Well, I was taken for Antonio,
And in his name receiv'd ten pound in gold,
Was by his mistress entertain'd; but thou
Envy'st my happiness: if thou hast th' ambition
To rise as I have done, go to Albumazar,
And let him change thee to a knight or lord.

CRI. Note the strange power of strong imagination.

TRIN. A world of engines cannot wrest my thoughts
From being a gentleman: I am one, and will be:
And, though I be not, yet will think myself so,
And scorn thee, Cricca, as a slave and servant. [_Exit._

SCENE IX.

CRICCA, LELIO, ANTONIO.

CRI. 'Tis but lost labour to dissuade his dulness.
Believe me, that's your father.

LEL. When I drove him hence,
Spite of my blood, his reverend countenance
Struck me t' a deep compassion. To clear all,
I'll ask one question. Signior Antonio,
What money took you when you went your voyage?

ANT. As I remember, fourscore and fifteen pound
In Barbary gold. Had Lucio kept his word,
I had carried just a hundred.

LEL. Pardon me, father;
'Twas my blind ignorance, not want of duty,
That wrong'd you; all was intended for a farmer,
Whom an astrologer, they said, transform'd.

ANT. How, an astrologer?

LEL. When you parted hence,
It seems you promis'd Flavia to Pandolfo.
News of your death arriving, th' old gentleman
Importunes me to second what you purpos'd.
Consulting therefore with my friends and kindred:
Loth my young sister should be buried quick
I' th' grave of threescore years; by their advice
I fully did deny him. He chafes and storms,
And finds at length a cunning man, that promis'd
To turn his farmer to your shape, and thus
Possess your house, and give him Flavia:
Whereof I, warn'd, wrong'd you instead of Trincalo.

ANT. Then hence it came they call'd me Trincalo,
And talk'd of an astrologer; which names
Almost enrag'd me past myself and senses.
'Tis true I promis'd, but have oft repented it;
And much more since he goes about to cheat me.
He must not have her, sir.

LEL. I am glad y' are so resolv'd.
And since with us you find that match unequal,
Let's all entreat you to bestow your daughter
Upon his son Eugenio.

ANT. Son, at your pleasure,
Dispose of Flavia with my full consent.

LEL. And as you judge him worthy your daughter Flavia,
Think me no less of his Sulpitia.

ANT. I do, and ever had desire to match
Into that family; and now I find myself
Old, weak, unfit for marriage, you shall enjoy her,
If I can work Pandolfo by entreaty.

CRI. To deal with him with reason and entreaties,
Is to persuade a madman: for his love
Makes him no less. All speeches opposite
T' his fix'd desire and love-corrupted judgment
Seem extreme fooleries. Will he consent
To give his daughter to your son, and you
Deny him Flavia? Shall Eugenio
Expect or land or love from old Pandolfo,
Being his open rival? 'Tis impossible.
He sought to cosen you; therefore resolve
To pay him in's own money. Be but advis'd
By my poor counsel, and one stroke shall cut
The root of his designs, and with his arrows
Strike his own plot so dead, that ev'n Albumazar,
With all his stars and instruments, shall never
Give it fresh motion.

ANT. Cricca, to thy direction
We yield ourselves; manage us at thy pleasure.

LEL. Speak quickly, Cricca.

CRI. The ground of all this business
Is to catch Trincalo, and lock him fast,
Till I release him: next, that no man whisper
Th' least word of your return. Then will I home,
And with a cheerful look tell my old master,
That Trincalo--but stay, look where he comes!
Let's in, and there at leisure I'll inform you
From point to point. Lelio, detain him here,
Till I send Armellina down to second you.
Cross him in nothing; call him Antonio,
And good enough.

LEL. Fear not: let me alone. [_Exeunt_ CRICCA _and_ ANTONIO.

SCENE X.

TRINCALO, LELIO.

TRIN. This rascal Cricca, with his arguments
Of malice, so disturbs my gentle thoughts,
That I half doubt I am not what I seem:
But that will soon be clear'd; if they receive me
In at Antonio's house, I am Antonio.

LEL. Signior Antonio, my most loving father!
Bless'd be the day and hour of your return.

TRIN. Son Lelio! a blessing on my child; I pray thee, tell me
How fares my servant Armellina? well?

LEL. Have you forgot my sister Flavia?

TRIN. What, my dear daughter Flavia? No: but first
Call Armellina; for this day we'll celebrate
A gleek of marriages:[337] Pandolfo and Flavia,
Sulpitia and myself, and Trincalo
With Armellina. Call her, good Lelio, quickly. [_Exit._

TRIN. So: this is well, that Lelio
Confesses me his father. Now I am perfect--
Perfect Antonio.

SCENE XI.

ARMELLINA, TRINCALO.

ARM. Signior Antonio!
My long-expected master!

TRIN. O Armellina!
Come, let me kiss thy brow[338] like my own daughter.

ARM. Sir, 'tis too great a favour. I kiss your foot.
What, fall'n? alas! how feeble you are grown
With your long travel!

TRIN. True, and being drown'd,
Nothing so griev'd me as to lose thy company:
But, since I am safe return'd, for thy good service
I'll help thee to a husband.

ARM. A husband, sir?
Some young and lusty youth, or else I'll none.

TRIN. To one that loves thee dearly, dearly, wench:
A goodly man, like me in limbs and fashion.

ARM. Fie, an old man! how! cast myself away,
And be no nurse but his?

TRIN. He's not like me
In years and gravity, but fair proportion;
A handsome, well-set man as I.

ARM. His name?

TRIN. 'Tis Tom Trincalo of Totnam.

ARM. Signior Pandolfo's lusty farmer?

TRIN. That's he.

ARM. Most unexpected happiness! 'tis the man
I more esteem than my own life: sweet master,
Procure that match, and think me satisfied
For all my former service without wages.
But, ah! I fear you jest. My poor unworthiness
Hopes not so great a fortune as sweet Trincalo.
No, wretched Armellina, in and despair:
Back to thy mournful dresser; there lament
Thy flesh to kitchen-stuff, and bones to ashes,
For love of thy sweet farmer.

TRIN. Alas! poor soul,
How prettily she weeps for me! Wilt see him?

ARM. My soul waits in my eyes, and leaves my body
Senseless.

TRIN. Then swear to keep my counsel.

ARM. I swear
By th' beauteous eyes of Trincalo.

TRIN. Why, I am Trincalo.

ARM. Your worship, sir! why do you flout your servant,
Right worshipful Antonio, my reverend master?

TRIN. Pox of Antonio! I am Tom Trincalo.
Why laugh'st thou?

ARM. 'Tis desire and joy
To see my sweetest.

TRIN. Look upon me, and see him.

ARM. I say I see Antonio, and none other.

TRIN. I am within, thy love; without, thy master.
Th' astrologer transform'd me for a day.

ARM. Mock not your poor maid, pray you, sir.

TRIN. I do not.
Now would I break this head against the stones,
To be unchang'd; fie on this gentry! it sticks
Like birdlime or the pox. I cannot part with't:
Within I am still thy farmer Trincalo.

ARM. Then must I wait, till old Antonio
Be brought to bed of a young[339] Trincalo;
Or flay you, and strip you to yourself again.

TRIN. Carry me to your chamber. Try me there.

ARM. O, sir, by no means; but with my lovely farmer
I'd stay all night, and thank him.

TRIN. Cross misfortune!
Accurs'd Albumazar and mad Pandolfo!
To change me thus, that, when I most desire
To be myself, I cannot. Armellina,
Fetch me a looking-glass.

ARM. To what end?

TRIN. Fetch one.
Let my old master's business sink or swim,
This sweet occasion must not be neglected.
Now shall I know th' astrologer's skill.[340] O wonderful!
Admir'd Albumazar in two transmutations!
Here's my old farmer's face. How in an instant
I am unchang'd, that was so long a-changing!
Here's my flat nose again, &c.
Now, Armellina, take thy lov'd Trincalo
To thy desired embracements; use thy pleasure,
Kiss him thy bellyful.

ARM. Not here in public.
T' enjoy too soon what pleaseth, is unpleasant:
The world would envy that my happiness.
Go in, I'll follow you, and in my bedchamber
We'll consummate the match in privacy.

TRIN. Was not the face I wore far worse than this?
But for thy comfort, wench, Albumazar
Hath dyed my thoughts so deep i' th' grain of gentry,
'Tis not a glass can rob me of my good fashions
And gentleman-like garb. Follow, my dear.

ARM. I'll follow you. So, now y' are fast enough.

TRIN. Help, Armellina, help! I am fall'n i' th' cellar:
Bring a fresh plantain leaf,[341] I have broke my shin.

ARM. Thus have I caught m' a husband in a trap,
And in good earnest mean to marry him.
'Tis a tough clown, and lusty: he works day and night;
And rich enough for me, that have no portion
But my poor service. Well, he's something foolish;
The better can I domineer, and rule him
At pleasure. That's the mark and utmost height
We women aim at. I am resolv'd I'll have him.

SCENE XII.

LELIO, CRICCA.

LEL. In, Armellina; lock up Trincalo.

ARM. I will, sir. [_Exit._

LEL. Cricca, for this thy counsel, if't succeed,
Fear not thy master's anger: I'll prefer thee,
And count thee as my genius or good fortune.

CRI. It cannot choose but take. I know his humour;
And can at pleasure feather him with hopes,
Making him fly what pitch I wish, and stoop,[342]
When I show fowl.

LEL. But for the suit of clothes?

CRI. I'll throw them o'er your garden-wall. Away.
Haste to Eugenio and Sulpitia,
Acquaint them with the business.

LEL. I go.

SCENE XIII.

LELIO, SULPITIA.

LEL. The hopeful issue of thy counsel, Cricca,
Brightens this ev'ning, and makes it more excel
The clearest day, than a grey morning doth
The blindest midnight, raising my amorous thoughts
To such a pitch of joy, that riches, honour,
And other pleasures, to Sulpitia's love
Appear like mole-hills to the moon.

SUL. Lelio!

LEL. O, there's the voice that in one note contains
All chords of music: how gladly she'll embrace
The news I give her and the messenger!

SUL. Soft, soft, y' are much mistaken; for in earnest,
I am angry, Lelio, and with you.

LEL. Sweetest, those flames
Rise from the fire of love, and soon will quench
I' th' welcome news I bring you.

SUL. Stand still, I charge you
By th' virtue of my lips; speak not a syllable,
As you expect a kiss should close my choler;
For I must chide you.

LEL. O my Sulpitia!
Were every speech a pistol charg'd with death,
I'd stand them all in hope of that condition.

SUL. First, sir, I hear you teach Eugenio
Too grave a wariness in your sister's love,
And kill his honest forwardness of affection
With your far-fet[343] respects, suspicions, fears:
You have your maybes--"This is dangerous:
That course were better; for if so, and yet
Who knows? the event is doubtful; be advis'd,
'Tis a young rashness: your father is your father;
Take leisure to consider." Thus y' have consider'd
Poor Flavia almost to her grave. Fie, Lelio!
Had this my smallness undertook the business,
And done no more in four short winter's days
Than you in four months, I'd have vowed my maidenhead
To th' living tomb of a sad nunnery;
Which for your sake I loathe.

LEL. Sweet, by your favour----

SUL. Peace, peace: now y' are so wise, as if ye had eaten
Nothing but brains and marrow of Machiavel:
You tip your speeches with Italian _motti_,[344]
Spanish _refranes_,[345] and English _quoth he's_. Believe me,
There's not a proverb salts your tongue, but plants
Whole colonies of white hairs. O, what a business
These hands must have when you have married me,
To pick out sentences that over-year you!

LEL. Give me but leave.

SUL. Have I a lip? and you
Made sonnets on't? 'tis your fault, for otherwise
Your sister and Eugenio had been sure
Long time ere this.

LEL. But----

SUL. Stay, your cue's not come yet.
I hate as perfectly this grey-green of yours,
As Old Antonio's green-grey. Fie! wise lovers
Are most absurd. Were I not full resolved,
I should begin to cool mine own affection.
For shame, consider well your sister's temper.
Her melancholy may much hurt her. Respect her,
Or, spite of mine own love, I'll make you stay
Six months before you marry me. [LELIO _whispers_.
This your so happy news? return'd, and safe?
Antonio yet alive? [LELIO _whispers_.
And what then? [LELIO _whispers_.
Well; all your business must be compassed
With winding plots and cunning stratagems.
Look to't; for if we be not married ere next morning,
By the great love that's hid in this small compass,
Flavia and myself will steal you both away,
To your eternal shame and foul discredit. [_Exit._

LEL. How prettily this lovely littleness
In one breath pleads her own cause and my sister's!
Chides me, and loves. This is that pleasing temper
I more admire than a continued sweetness
That over-satisfies: 'tis salt I love, not sugar. [_Exit._

FOOTNOTES:

[327] _Threatens_ in both the editions. Pegge suggested _sweetens_.

[328] See note to "The Spanish Tragedy," [v. 95.]

[329] The quartos read _this word_.

[330] The whole of what follows, to the word _away_, is given in the
4º of 1615 as part of the speech of Antonio.--_Collier._

[331] A parody on the speech of the Ghost of Andrea, in "The Spanish
Tragedy."

[332] _i.e._, Owns. See note to "Cornelia," [v. 232.]

[333] [Edits., _Of_.]

[334] It appears from Segar ("Honour, Military and Civil," fol. 1602,
p. 122), that a person of superior birth might not be challenged by an
inferior, or, if challenged, might refuse the combat. Alluding to this
circumstance, Cleopatra says--

"These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
A meaner than myself."

--Act ii. sc. 5.

[335] This seems intended to ridicule some of the punctilios of
duelling, and probably the author had in his mind the following
passage in Ferne's "Blazon of Gentrie," 1586, p. 319: "But if it so
happen that the defendour is lame of a legge, or of an arme, or that
hee bee blinde of an eye, he may take such armes and weapons, as be
most fitte for his owne bodye; and he shall offer such to the
approover as shall impeache the like member, or part of the approovers
bodye from his dutye and office in the combate, so that he shall be
deprived of the use of that member in the combate, even as wel as the
defender is through his infirmity of lamenes, or other defect of
nature."

[336] Duellists being punished by law in England, it has been usual
for them to go over to _Calais_, as one of the nearest ports of
France, to decide their quarrel out of the reach of justice. Trincalo
is pleasant on this subject.--_Steevens._

This custom is mentioned in an epigram in Samuel Rowlands's "Good
Newes and Bad Newes," 1622, sig. F 2--

"Gilbert, this glove I send thee from my hand,
And challenge thee to meet on _Callis sand:_
On this day moneth resolve I will be there,
Where thou shalt finde my flesh I will not feare.
My cutler is at work," &c.

[337] _i.e._, Three. A metaphor taken from the game at cards called
_Gleek_, where a _gleek_ of knaves is three.--_Pegge._

[338] It is observed by Mr Steevens, that "it was formerly the fashion
to kiss the eyes, as a mark of extraordinary tenderness." See note to
"The Winter's Tale," act iv. sc. 3, where several instances are
produced.

Again, in Marston's "Dutch Courtesan," act ii. sc. 1--

"Your onely voice
Shall cast a slumber on my listning sense
_You with soft lip shall only ope mine eyes,
And suck their lids asunder_, only you
Shall make me wish to live, and not feare death."

[339] Hitherto printed by Mr Reed--

"Be brought to bed of a _fair_ Trincalo;"

a reading not supported by the old copies, which have it
_young_.--_Collier._

[340] It must be supposed that Armellina brings a looking-glass, as
desired.--_Collier._

[341] Dr Grey observes from Tackius, that a toad, before she engages
with a spider, will fortify herself with some of this plant; and that
if she comes off wounded, she cures herself afterwards with it. Mr
Steevens says it is a blood-stauncher, and was formerly applied to
green wounds. See note on "Romeo and Juliet," act i. sc. 2.

[342] See note [at p. 364 _suprâ_.]

[343] _i.e._, Far-fetched. See note to "Gammer Gurton's Needle," [iii.
223.]

[344] Shrewd or witty sayings. See Florio's "Dictionary."

[345] _i.e._, Proverbs; a _referendo_, because it is often repeated.
See Stevens's "Spanish Dictionary," 1705.