BERTUCCIO.
That 's true,—
With you two for his company. But tell me,
How will the lady relish, o'er her wine,
The cut-throat faces that she saw last night?
Methinks 't will mar her appetite.
ASCOLTI.
Be sure
She will not look so scared at us
As thou would'st at the sight of her.
BERTUCCIO.
Who—I?
Nay, I but held the ladder; we poor knaves
Must take the leavings of your rogueries,
As of your feasts; but prithee, Ordelaffi,
How looked she in her night-rail?
ORDELAFFI.
Would'st believe it?
Methought she had a something of thy favour,
As—if so crook'd a thing could have a daughter—
Thy daughter might have had.
ASCOLTI.
How now? He winces!
There cannot, sure, be issue of thy loins!
Nature's too merciful; she broke the mould
When she turned thee out!
BERTUCCIO.
Nature, sir, proportions
Her witty fools to her dull ones; while she makes
Ascoltis, she must needs produce Bertuccios
