Cle. Do you not know me?
Fal. Yes, I have seen you, and think you are Cleontius, A Servant of the Prince’s; wert i’th’ Campania too, If I mistake not.
Cle. Can you recal me by no better instances?
Fal. What need of any, pray?
Cle. I am a Gentleman.
Fal. Ha, Labree, what means he now?
By Jove, I do not question it, Cleontius:
What need this odd Punctilio?
I call thee to no account.
Cle. That’s more than I can say to you, Sir.
Fal. I’ll excuse you for that.
Cle. But shall not need, Sir; stay, I have a Sister.
Fal. Oh, the Devil, now he begins.