A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
English drama
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?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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