Basilisco.
O, shoot no more; great god, I yield to thee.
Piston.
I see his skin is pistol-proof, but[418] from
The girdle upward. What sudden agony was that?
Basilisco.
Why, saw'st thou not how Cupid, god of love,
Not daring look me in the martial face,
Came like a coward, stealing after me,
And with his pointed dart prick'd my posteriors?
Piston.
Then hear my opinion concerning that point:
The ladies of Rhodes, hearing that you have lost
A capital part of your lady-ware,
Have made their petition to Cupid
To plague you above all other,
As one prejudicial to their muliebrity.
Now, sir, Cupid seeing you already hurt before,
Thinks it a greater punishment to hurt you behind;
Therefore I would wish you to have an eye to the back-door.
Basilisco.