Pan. Art resolv'd?
Trin. Resolv'd! 'Tis done—
With this condition: after I have given your worship
My daughter Flavia, you shall then move my worship,
And much entreat me, to bestow my maid
Upon myself—I should say Trincalo.
Pan. Content; and for thy sake will make her portion
Two hundred crowns.
Trin. Now are you much deceiv'd:
I never meant it.
Pan. How!
Trin. I did but jest;
And yet, my hand, I'll do't: for I am mutable,
And therefore apt to change. Come, come, sir, quickly,
Let's to the astrologer, and there transform,
Reform, conform, deform me at your pleasure.
I loathe this country countenance. Despatch: my skin
Itches like a snake's in April to be stripp'd off.
Quickly, O, quickly! as you love Flavia, quickly.
SCENE III.
Albumazar, Pandolfo, Ronca, Trincalo.