ACT III, SCENE 1.
Pandolfo, Cricca.
Pan. While the astrologer hews out Trincalo,
Squaring and framing him t' Antonio,
Cricca, I'll make thee partner of a thought,
That something troubles me.
Cri. Say, sir, what is't?
Pan. I have no heart to give Albumazar
The chain I promis'd him.
Cri. Deliver it me,
And I'll present it to him in your name.
Pan. 'T has been an heirloom[310] to our house four hundred years,
And, should I leave it now, I fear good fortune
Would fly from us, and follow it.
Cri. Then give him
The price in gold.
Pan. It comes to a hundred pounds;[311]
And how would that, well-husbanded, grow in time?
I was a fool to promise, I confess it;
I was too hot and forward in the business.
Cri. Indeed I wonder'd that your wary thriftiness,
Not wont to drop one penny in a quarter
Idly, would part with such a sum so easily.
Pan. My covetous thrift aims at no other mark
Than in fit time and place to show my bounty.
Who gives continually may want at length
Wherewith to feed his liberality.
But, for the love of my dear Flavia,
I would not spare my life, much less my treasure.
Yet if with honour I can win her cheaper,
Why should I cast away so great a sum?
Cri. True: I have a trick now hatching in my brain,
How you may handsomely preserve your credit,
And save the chain.
Pan. I would gladly do it,
But fear he understands us what we say.
Cri. What can you lose to try't? If it take,
There's so much sav'd, if otherwise, nothing lost.
Pan. What is't, good Cricca?
Cri. Soon as Albumazar comes, loaded with news
Of th' transmutation of your servant Trincalo,
I'll entertain him here; meanwhile, steal you
Closely into the room, and quickly hide
Some special piece of plate: then run out amaz'd,
Roaring, that all the street may know y' are robb'd.
Next threaten to attach him, and accuse him
Before a justice; and in th' end agree,
If he restore the plate, you'll give the chain,
Otherwise not.
Pan. But if we be discover'd!
For by his instruments and familiars
He can do much.
Cri. Lay all the fault on Trincalo.
But here's the main point. If you can dissemble
Cunningly, and frame your countenance to express
Pity and anger, that so learn'd a man
Should use his friend so basely—if you can call
An outcry well, roar high and terrible.
Pan. I'll fetch a cry from th' bottom of my heels,
But I'll roar loud enough; and thou must second me
With wonder at the sudden accident.
Cri. But yours is the main part; for, as you play't,
You win or lose the chain.
Pan. No more, no more; he comes.