I am cozen'd, cheated, by a parasite slave;
Harlot, thou hast gull'd me.
MOSCA.
Yes, sir; stop your mouth,
Or I shall draw the only tooth is left.
Are you not he, that filthy covetous wretch,
With the three legs, that here, in hope of prey,
Have, any time, this three years, snuff'd about,
With your most grovelling nose, and would have hired
Me to the poisoning of my patron, sir?
Are you not he that have to day in court
Profess'd the disinheriting of your son,
Perjured yourself? Go home, and die, and stink.
(Acte V, sc. i.)
CORVINO.
Yes,
And have mine eyes beat out with stinking fish,
Bruised fruit, and rotten eggs.—'Tis well. I am glad
I shall not see my shame yet.
(Acte V, sc. viii.)
Why, did you think you had married a statue, or a motion only? one of the French puppets, with the eyes turned with a wire? or some innocent out of the hospital that would stand with her hands thus, and a plaise mouth, and look upon you?