Luc. Let my duty Madam
Presume, if you have cause of joy, to intreat
I may share in it.
Bob. 'Tis well, he has forgot how I frighted him yet.
Eug. Thou shalt: but first kneel with me Lucio,
No more Posthumia now, thou hast a Father,
A Father living to take off that name,
Which my too credulous fears, that he was dead,
Bestow'd upon thee: thou shalt see him Lucio
And make him young again, by seeing thee,
Who only hadst a being in my Womb
When he went from me, Lucio: Oh my joyes,
So far transport me, that I must forget
The ornaments of Matrons, modesty,
And grave behaviour; but let all forgive me
If in th' expression of my soul's best comfort
Though old, I do a while forget mine age
And play the wanton in the entertainment
Of those delights I have so long despair'd of.
Luc. Shall I then see my Father?
Eug. This hour Lucio;
Which reckon the beginning of thy life
I mean that life, in which thou shalt appear
To be such as I brought thee forth, a man,
This womanish disguise, in which I have
So long conceal'd thee, thou shalt now cast off,
And change those qualities thou didst learn from me,
For masculine virtues, for which seek no tutor,
But let thy fathers actions be thy precepts;
And for thee Zancho, now expect reward
For thy true service.
Bob. Shall I? you hear fellow Stephano, learn to know
me more respectively; how dost thou think I shall become
the Stewards chair, ha? will not these slender hanches show
well with a chain, and a gold night-Cap after supper, when
I take the accompts?
Eug. Haste, and take down those Blacks with which my chamber
Hath like the widow, her sad Mistriss mourn'd,
And hang up for it, the rich Persian Arras,
Us'd on my wedding night, for this to me
Shall be a second marriage: send for Musique,
And will the Cooks to use their best of cunning
To please the palat.
Bob. Will your Ladyship have a Potato-pie, 'tis a good
stirring dish for an old Lady, after a long Lent.
Eug. Begone I say: why Sir, you can goe faster?
Bob. I could Madam: but I am now to practise the
Stewards pace, that's the reward I look for: every man must
fashion his gate, according to his calling: you fellow Stephano,
may walk faster, to overtake preferment: so, usher me.