[For the moment they talk in short sentences like this. Then DOROTHY puts her hand to her brow as if she is remembering something horrible.
DOROTHY. Roger! Now I remember! It is not safe for you to stay!
ROGER (very brave). Am I a puling child to be afraid?
DOROTHY. My Lord Carey is here. He has read your letter.
ROGER. The black-livered dog! Would I had him at my sword's point to teach him manners.
[He puts his hand to his heart and staggers into a chair.
DOROTHY. Oh, you are wounded!
ROGER. Faugh,'tis but a scratch. Am I a puling—
[He faints. She binds up his ankle.
Enter Lord Carey with two soldiers.