Cri. Yes, and as rank an ass as e'er he was.
Trin. Thou'rt much deceiv'd: thou neither see'st nor know'st me.
I am transform'd, transform'd.
Cri. Th' art still thyself.
Lelio, this farmer's half a fool, half knave;
And as Pandolfo did with much entreaty
Persuade him to transform, so, as much labour
Will hardly bring the coxcomb to himself,
That ne'er was out on't. Who art, if not he?
Trin. My name is Don Antonio: I am now going
To my own house, to give Pandolfo Flavia,
And Armellina to his farmer Trincalo.
How dar'st thou, Cricca (but a meaner servant),
Resemble me (a man of worth and worship),
To such a clown as Trincalo, a branded fool,
An ass, a laughing-stock to town and country?
Art not asham'd to name him with Antonio?
Lel. Do not thy actions, with thy rude behaviour,
Proclaim thee what thou art?
Cri. Notorious clown!
[Beats him.
Trin. Villain! th' hast broke my shoulders.
Lel. O, didst feel him?
Trin. Ay, with a pox.