ANT. These things consider'd, I bestow my daughter Upon your son Eugenio, whose constant love, With his so modest carriage, hath deserv'd her; And, that you freeze not for a bed-fellow, I marry you with patience. PAN. Treacherous villain! Accursed Trincalo! [_Aside._] I'll---- But this no place; He's too well back'd; but shortly, when the date Of his Antonioship's expir'd, revenge Shall sweeten this disgrace. ANT. Signior Pandolfo, When you recover yourself, lost desperately In disproportion'd dotage, then you'll thank me For this great favour. Be not obstinate: Disquiet not yourself. PAN. I thank you, sir. [_Exeunt all but_ PANDOLFO. SCENE VII. PANDOLFO. _And that you freeze not for a bed-fellow, I marry you with patience!_ Traitorous villain! Is't not enough to wrong me and betray me, But 't must be done with scoffs? accursed Trincalo! And me most miserable that, when I thought T' embrace young Flavia, see her before my face Bestow'd upon my son! my son--my rival! This is Eugenio's plot and his friend Lelio's; Who, with my servant Cricca, have conspir'd, And suborn'd Trincalo to betray his master. Why do I rage 'gainst any but myself, That have committed such a serious business To th' hands of a base clown and ignorant? I see mine error, but no means to help it. Only the sweetness of revenge is left me, Which I must execute: th' hours of's gentry Are now clean spent. I'll home, and there attend him. [_Exit._ SCENE VIII. TRINCALO _drunk, but something recovered_. TRIN. Welcome, old trusty Trincalo; good farmer, welcome! Give me thy hand; we must not part hereafter. Fie, what a trouble 'tis to be out of a man's self! If gentlemen have no pleasure but what I felt to-day, a team of horses shall not drag me out of my profession. There's nothing amongst them but borrowing, compounding for half their debts, and have their purse cut for the rest; cozened by whores, frighted with husbands, washed in wet hogsheads, cheated of their clothes, and falling in cellars for conclusion. SCENE IX. PANDOLFO _at the window_, TRINCALO. PAN. O precious piece of villany! are you unchang'd? How confident the rogue dares walk the streets! TRIN. And then such quarrelling! never a suit I wore to-day but hath been soundly basted: only this faithful country-case 'scaped fist-free; and, be it spoken in a good hour, was never beaten yet, since it came from fulling. PAN. Base, treacherous villain! [_Beats him._ TRIN. Is this the recompense of my day's work? PAN. You marry me to patience! there's patience, And that you freeze not, there's warm patience, She's a good bed-fellow: have patience. TRIN. You'll beat me out on't, sir. How have I wrong'd you? PAN. So as deserves th' expression of my fury, With th' cruel'st tortures I can execute.