ACT. 3. SCEN. 4.
ALBVMAZAR. TRINCALO.
AL.
STand forth transform'd Antonio fully mued
From browne soare feathers of dull yeomanry
To th'glorious bloome of gentry; prune your selfe slick,
Sweare boldly y'are the man you represent
To all that dare deny't.
TRI.
I finde my thoughts
Most strangely altred▪ but me thinkes my face
Feeles still like Trincalo.
ALB.
You imagine so.
Senses are oft deceiu'd. As an attentiue Angler
Fixing his steady eyes on the swift streames
Of a steepe tumbling torrent, no sooner turnes
His sight to land, but giddy, thinkes the firme bankes
And constant trees, moue like the running waters:
So you that thirty yeares haue liu'd in Trincalo,
Chang'd suddenly, think y'are so still; but instantly
These thoughts will vanish.
TRI.
Giue me a looking-glasse▪
To read your skill in these new lineaments.
ALB.
I'de rather giue you poyson: for a glasse
By secret power of crosse reflections,
And opticke vertue, spoiles the wondrous worke
Of transformation, and in a moment turnes you▪