This the Moors call two wings[324] upon a gridiron;
But it goes sweeter far o' th' iron instrument.
Ron. There's one within my kitchen, ready-strung: go in.
Trin. Sweet lady, pardon me, I'll follow you.
Happy Antonio in so rare a mistress!
But happier I, that in his place enjoy her:
I say still, there's no pleasure like transforming.
SCENE IX.
Bevilona and Trincalo; to them Ronca.
Ron. Now is the ass expecting of a banquet,
Ready to court, embrace, and kiss his mistress.
But I'll soon stave him. What ho!
[Knocks at the door.
Bev. Who's that so boldly knocks? I am not within—
Or busy. Why so importunate? who is't?
Ron. 'Tis I.