Arm. 'Tis desire and joy
To see my sweetest.
Trin. Look upon me, and see him.
Arm. I say I see Antonio, and none other.
Trin. I am within, thy love; without, thy master.
Th' astrologer transform'd me for a day.
Arm. Mock not your poor maid, pray you, sir.
Trin. I do not.
Now would I break this head against the stones,
To be unchang'd; fie on this gentry! it sticks
Like birdlime or the pox. I cannot part with't:
Within I am still thy farmer Trincalo.
Arm. Then must I wait, till old Antonio
Be brought to bed of a young[339] Trincalo;
Or flay you, and strip you to yourself again.
Trin. Carry me to your chamber. Try me there.
Arm. O, sir, by no means; but with my lovely farmer
I'd stay all night, and thank him.
Trin. Cross misfortune!
Accurs'd Albumazar and mad Pandolfo!
To change me thus, that, when I most desire
To be myself, I cannot. Armellina,
Fetch me a looking-glass.