Hor. [Quick proceeders, marry!] Now, tell me, I pray,
You that durst swear [that your mistress] Bianca
Loved [none in the world so well as] [Lucentio.]
Tra. [O] despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
Hor. Mistake no more: I am not Licio,
Nor a musician, as I seem to be;
But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
And makes a god of such a cullion: