Bal. Son Francisco, why do you gaze on me so?
Fran. Bless me, Sir, are you taken by the Great Turk too?
Bal. Taken,—Great Turk,—what do mean?
Fran. Mean, Sir! why, how the Devil came you into Turkey?
Bal. Sure, Jealousy has crack’d his brains.
Fran. Crack me no Cracks, good Father mine;—am not I a Slave in Turkey? and is not this the Grand Seignior’s Palace?
Car. So,—all will come out, there’s no prevention. [Aside.
Seb. Some that are wiser answer us: You, Son,—are you infected too?—was not yesterday to have been your Wedding-day?
Ant. To day has done as well, Sir, I have only chang’d Isabella for Clara.
Seb. How, Francisco, have you juggled with me?