Awdwell. Now I fancy 'twou'd have just the contrary effect on me.
Mar. Oh Jehu! how am I tortur'd with your Nonsence! Proceed, for Heav'ns sake; let my Ears be diverted with my own words; for your's grate 'em beyond induring.
Isab. Must I repeat this stuff agen?
Mar. Stuff! my Spirit rises at her: But 'tis in vain to resent it. The truth on't is, Poets are so increas'd, Players value 'em no more than——
Awd. Ballad-singers.
Awd. Spiteful Devils. Well, Mrs. Cross, I'll not trouble you agen; Amorous shall suppose you are going. Come, Mr. Pinkethman.
Amo. Then with this Flaming Sword I'll clear the way, And hunt for Danger in the Face of Day.
Mar. Well, Mr. Pinkethman, I think you are oblig'd to me for choosing you for a Heroe; Pray do it well, that the Town may see, I was not mistaken in my Judgment: Fetch large Strides; walk thus; your Arms strutting; your Voice big, and your Eyes terrible.
Then with this Flaming Sword I'll clear the way.
Amo. Then thus I'll clear your way, (Draws. And hunt for Danger in the Face of Day.