A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Xi Part 98

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 a.s.s, 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, b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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 a.s.s!

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: Alb.u.mazar 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 a.s.s as e'er he was.