Half fandangos, priests, and fiddles.

MOSCON. Clarin, from the first to last,
All your life you've been a trickster,
A smart temporizing toady,
A bold flatterer, a trimmer,
Since you praise the thoughts of others,
And ne'er speak your own.

CLARIN. The civil
Way to tell a man he lies
Is to say he's wrong:-- you twig me,
Now I think I speak my mind.

CYPRIAN. Moscon, Clarin, both I bid ye
Cease this silly altercation.
It is ever thus betwixt ye,
Puffed up with your little knowledge
Each maintains his own opinion.
Go, and (as I've said) here seek me
When night falls, and with the thickness
Of its shadows veils from view
This most fair and wondrous system
Of the universe.

MOSCON. How comes it,
That although you have admitted
'Tis not right to see the feast,
Yet you go to see it?