 | Albvmazar |  |
SCENE 2.
Pandolfo. Trincalo.Pan.
Cricca denyes me: no perswasions.
Proffers, rewards, can work him to transform.
Yonder's my Country Farmer Trincalo.
Never in fitter time good Trincalo.
Tri.
Like a lean horse t'a fresh and lusty pasture.
Pan.
What rent dost pay me for thy Farm at Totnam?
Tri.
Ten pound; and find't too deare a peny-worth.
Pan.
My hand here: take it rent-free for three lives,
To serve me in a businesse Ile employ thee.
Tri.
Serve you? Ile serve, reserve, conserve, preserve.
Deserve you for th'one halfe. O Armellina,
A joynture, hay a joynture! what's your employment?
Pan.
Heres an Astrologer has a wondrous secret
To transforme men to other shapes, and persons.
Trin.
How? transform things to men? Ile bring nine Taylors
Refus'd last Muster, shall give five Marks a piece
To shape three men of service out of all,
And grant him the remnant shreds above the bargain.
Pan.
Now if thou'lt let him change thee, take this lease;
Drawn ready; put what lives thou pleasest.
Tri.
Stay, Sir.
Say I am transformd; who shall enjoy the lease?
I? or the person I must turn to.
Pan.
Thou,
Thou. The resemblance lasts but one whole day:
Then home true Farmer, as thou wert before.
Trin.
Where shall poor Trincalo be? how's this transformd?
Transmuted? how? not I: I love my self
Better then so: theres no lease. I'de not venter
For the whole fee-simple.
Pan.
Tell me the difference
Betwixt a fool and a wise man.
Pan.
A wise man
Accepts all fair occasions of advancement,
Flyes no commodity for feares of danger,
Venters and gains, lives easily, drinks good wine,
Fares neatly, 's richly cloath'd in worthiest company,
While your poor Fool and Clown, for fear of perill,
Sweats hourly for a dry brown crust to bedward,
And wakes all night for want of moysture.
Trin.
Well, sir,
I'de rather starve in this my loved Image,
Then hazard thus my life, for others looks.
Change is a kinde of death, I dare not try it.
Pan.
'Tis not so dangerous as thou tak'st it, wee'l only
Alter thy count'nance for a day. Imagine,
Thy face mask't only: or that thou dream'st all night
Thou wer't apparell'd in Antonio's form
And waking find'st thy self true Trincalo.
Trin.
Antonio's forme? was not Antoniio a Gentleman?
Pan.
Yes, and a neighbour, that's his house.
Trin.
O ho!
Now do I smell th'Astrologers trick: hee'l steep me
In souldiers bloud; or boyle me in a Caldron
Of Barbarous Law French: Or anoint me over
With supply oile of great mens services.
For these three means raise Yeomen to the Gentry.
Pardon me sir: I hate those medicines. Fy!
All my posterity will smell and tast on't
Long as the house of Trincalo endures.
Pan.
There's no such businesse, thou shalt only seem so
And this deceive Antonio's family.
Trin.
Are you assur'd? 'twould grieve me to be brayed
In a huge mortar, wrought to paste, and moulded
To this Antonioes mould: Grant I be turnd: what then?
Pan.
Enter his house, be reverenc'd by his servants,
And give his daughter Flavia to me in marriage.
The circumstances ile instruct thee after.
Trin.
Pray give me leave: this side sayes do't, this do not.
Before I leave you Tom Trincalo take my counsell.
Thy Mistris Armellina is Antonioes maid,
But if I be Antonio, then Antonio
Enjoyes that happinesse, not Trincalo.
A pretty trick to make my selfe a Cuckold.
No, no; there, take your Lease. Ile hang first. Soft,
Be not so cholerick Thomas: If I become Antonio,
Then all his riches follow. This fair occasion
Once vanish't, hope not the like; of astark Clown
I shall appeare speck and span Gentleman.
A pox of Ploughs, and Carts, and Whips and Horses.
Then Armellina shall be given to Trincalo,
Three hundred Crowns her portion: wee'le get a boy
And call him Transformation Trincalo,
Ile do't, sir.
Pan.
Art resolv'd?
Trin.
Resolv'd tis done:
With this condition: after I have given your Worship
My daughter Flavia, you shall then move my Worship
And much intreat me to bestow my Maid
Upon my selfe, I should say Trincalo.
Pan.
Content, and for thy sake will make her portion
Two hundred Crowns.
Trin.
Now are you much deceiv'd:
I never meant it.
Pan.
How?
Tri.
I did but jest.
And yet my hand, Ile do't. For I am mutable,
And therefore apt to change: Come, come sir, quickly,
Lets to th'Astrologer, and there transforme,
Reform, conform, deform me at your pleasure.
I loath this Country countenance; dispatch: my skin
Itches like Snaks in Aprill, to be stript off.
Quickly, O quickly, as you love Flavia, quickly.
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