SCENE IV.

TRINCALO, CRICCA.

TRIN. O, what a business 'tis to be transform'd! My master talks of four-and-twenty hours: But, if I mew these flags[290] of yeomanry, Gild in the sear,[291] and shine in bloom of gentry, 'Tis not their 'strology nor sacrifice Shall force me cast that coat. I'll ne'er part with't, Till I be sheriff of th' county, and in commission Of peace and quorum. Then will I get m' a clerk, A practis'd fellow, wiser than my worship, And domineer amongst my fearful neighbours. And feast them bountifully with their own bribes.

CRI. Trincalo!

TRIN. Wear a gold chain at every quarter sessions, Look big and grave, and speak not one wise word.

CRI. Trincalo!

TRIN. Examine wenches got with child, and curiously Search all the circumstances: have blank mitti-muses Printed in readiness; breathe nought but, _Sirrah_, _Rogue, ha? ho? hum? Constable, look to your charge;_ Then vouch a statute and a Latin sentence, Wide from the matter.

CRI. Trincalo!

TRIN. License all ale-houses; Match my son Transformation t' a knight's daughter, And buy a bouncing pedigree of a Welsh herald: And then----

CRI. What! In such serious meditations?

TRIN. Faith, no; but building castles in the air While th' weather's fit: O Cricca, such a business!

CRI. What is't?

TRIN. Nay, soft; they're secrets of my master, Lock'd in my breast: he has the key at's purse-strings.[292]

CRI. My master's secret! keep it, good farmer, keep it; I would not lend an ear to't, if thou'dst hire me. Farewell.

TRIN. O, how it boils and swells! if I keep't longer, 'Twill grow t' impostume in my breast, and choke me. Cricca!

CRI. Adieu, good Trincalo; the secrets of our betters Are dangerous: I dare not know't.

TRIN. But, hear'st thou! Say, I should tell, can'st keep as close as I do?

CRI. Yes: but I had rather want it. Adieu.

TRIN. Albumazar----

CRI. Farewell.

TRIN. Albumazar----

CRI. Prythee.

TRIN. Albumazar, Th' astrologer, hath undertook to change me T' Antonio's shape: this done, must I give Flavia To my old master, and his maid to Trincalo.

CRI. But where's Pandolfo and Albumazar?

TRIN. Gone newly home to choose a chamber fitting For transmutation. So: now my heart's at ease.

CRI. I fear the skill and cunning of Albumazar With his black art, by whom Pandolfo seeks To compass Flavia, spite of her brother Lelio And his own son Eugenio, that loves her dearly. I'll lose no time, but find them, and reveal The plot, and work to cross this accident. [_Aside._] But, Trincalo, art thou so rash and vent'rous To be transform'd with hazard of thy life?

TRIN. What care I for a life, that have a lease For three: but I am certain there's no danger in't.

CRI. No danger! cut thy finger, and that pains thee; Then what will't do to shred and mince thy carcase, Bury't in horse-dung, mould it new, and turn it T' Antonio? and, when th' art chang'd, if Lelio Smell out your plot, what worlds of punishment Thou must endure! Poor Trincalo! the desire Of gains abuses thee: be not transform'd.

TRIN. Cricca, thou understand'st not: for Antonio, Whom I resemble, suffers all, not I.

CRI. Yonder they come; I'll hence, and haste to Lelio. [_Exit._