[Go out.
Tick.—So! Thanks be prais’d, all’s still again, this Fright were enough to mortify any Lover of less magnanimity than my self.—Well, of all Sins, this itch of Whoring is the most hardy,—the most impudent in Repulses, the most vigilant in watching, most patient in waiting, most frequent in Dangers; in all Disasters but Disappointment, a Philosopher; yet if Barberacho come not quickly, my Philosophy will be put to’t, certo.
[This while Sir Signal is venturing from his Post, listening, and slowly advancing towards the middle of the Stage.
Sir Sig. The Coast is once more clear, and I may venture my Carcase forth again,—though such a Salutation as the last, wou’d make me very unfit for the matter in hand.—The Battoon I cou’d bear with the Fortitude and Courage of a Hero: But these dangerous Sharps I never lov’d. What different Rencounters have I met withal to night, Corpo de me? A Man may more safely pass the Gulf of Lyons, than convoy himself into a Baudy-House in Rome; but I hope all’s past, and I will say with Alexander,—Vivat Esperance en despetto del Fatto. [Advances a little.
Tick. Sure I heard a noise;—No, ‘twas only my surmise.
[They both advance softly, meeting just in the middle of the Stage, and coming close up to each other; both cautiously start back, and stand a tipto in the posture of Fear, then gently feeling for each other, (after listening and hearing no Noise) draw back their Hands at touching each other’s; and shrinking up their Shoulders, make grimaces of more Fear.
Tick. Que Equesto.
Sir Sig. Hah, a Man’s Voice!—I’ll try if I can fright him hence.
[Aside.
Una Malladette Spiritto Incarnate.
[In a horrible tone.
Tick. Hah, Spiritto Incarnate! that Devil’s Voice I shou’d know.
[Aside.
Sir Sig. See, Signior! Una Spiritto, which is to say, un Spiritalo,
Immortallo, Incorporallo, Inanimate, Immaterialle, Philosophicale,
Invisible—Unintelligible—Diavillo.
[In the same tone.