Bal. Turned man, turned man; women wear the breeches.
Lo, here! 240
Pier. Light and unduteous! kneel not, peevish elf;
Speak not, entreat not, shame unto my house,
Curse to my honour. Where’s Antonio?
Thou traitress to my hate, what, is he shipp’d
For England now? well, whimpering harlot, hence!
Mel. Good father!
Pier. Good me no goods. Seest thou that sprightly youth?
Ere thou canst term to-morrow morning old,
Thou shalt call him thy husband, lord, and love.
Mel. Ay me! 250
Pier. Blirt on your “ay me’s!” guard her safely hence.
Drag her away, I’ll be your guard to-night.
Young prince, mount up your spirits and prepare
To solemnise your nuptial’s eve with pomp.
Gal. The time is scant: now nimble wits appear:
Phœbus begins to[156] gleam, the welkin’s clear.
[Exeunt all but Balurdo and his Page.
Bal. Now nimble wits appear! I’ll myself appear,
Balurdo’s self, that in quick wit doth surpass,
Will show the substance of a complete——.
Dil. Ass, ass.