Pan. What, me! a man of known discretion;
Of riches, years, and this grey gravity?
I'll satisfy'r with gold, rich clothes, and jewels.
Cri. Were't not far fitter urge your son Eugenio
To woo her for himself?
Pan. Cricca, begone!
Touch no more there: I will and must have Flavia.
Tell Lelio, if he grant m' his sister Flavia,
I'll give my daughter to him in exchange.
Begone, and find me here within this half-hour.
SCENE III
Ronca, Pandolfo.
Ron. 'Tis well that servant's gone: I shall the easier
Wind up his master to my purposes.
Pan. Sure, this some novice of th' artillery,
That winks and shoots: sir, prime your piece anew,
The powder's wet.
[Knocks at the door.
Ron. A good ascendant:[243] bless me, sir, are you frantic?
Pan. Why frantic? are not two knocks the lawful courses
To open doors and ears?