Pan. Enough.
What news from Lelio? Shall I have his sister?
Cri. He swears and vows he never will consent.
She shall not play with worn antiquities,
Nor lie with snow and statues; and such replies
That I omit for reverence of your worship.
Pan. Not have his sister! Cricca, I will have Flavia,
Maugre his head:[255] by means of this astrologer,
I'll enjoy Flavia. Are the stars yet inclin'd
To his divine approach?
Ron. One minute brings him.
Cri. What 'strologer?
Pan. The learned man I told thee,
The high Almanac of Germany; an Indian
Far beyond Trebisond and Tripoli,
Close by the world's end: a rare conjuror
And great astrologer. His name, pray, sir?
Ron. Albumazarro Meteoroscopico.
Cri. A name of force to hang him without trial.
Pan. As he excels in science, so in title.
He tells of lost plate, horses, and stray'd cattle
Directly, as he had stol'n them all himself.