PENULO.
A pox upon you, what meant you by that?
LENTULO.
What mean I? marry, sir, he meant to give her a box on the ear, if she
spake to me,
And I meant to give him another box on the ear, sir, he should see.
PENULO.
You should have bestow'd it where you meant it, then.
Must you strike me, and mean other men?
LENTULO.
'Twas nothing, fellow, but for 'sample's sake.
PENULO.
Well, sir, I am content this once it to take.
But, sirrah, you must know that squall is the duke's son,
That now by mischance is stroken stark dumb,
In fetching home his sister, that ran away from hence.
LENTULO.
Is she then a runaway? O passing wench!
I thought as much; now, good Lord, to see
That she and I now akin should be.
O cuckally[108] luck! O heavy chance, O!
I runaway, she runaway: go together, go!
PENULO.
But all the court laments, and sore weeps for it.
LENTULO.
All the court? thou liest: the Court-gate weeps not a whit.
Enter BOMELIO, like a counterfeit Physician.
BOMELIO. Bien[109] venu, chi diue ve mi nou intendite signeur, no. I have a piece of work in hand now, that all the world must not know.