Oli. That’s not so well, believe me.
Fal. Nor so ill, since they be such as render us
No less acceptable to your fair Eyes, Madam!
But had you seen me when I gain’d them, Ladies,
In that heroick posture.
Am. What posture?
Fal. In that of fighting, Madam;
You would have call’d to mind that antient story
Of the stout Giants that wag’d War with Heaven;
Just so I fought, and for as glorious prize,
Your excellent Ladiship.
Am. For me, was it for me you ran this hazard then?
Fal. Madam, I hope you do not question that,
Was it not all the faults you found with me,
The reputation of my want of Courage,
A thousand Furies are not like a Battle;
And but for you,
By Jove, I would not fight it o’er again
For all the glory on’t; and now do you doubt me?
Madam, your heart is strangely fortified
That can resist th’efforts I have made against it,
And bring to boot such marks of valour too.
Enter to them Alcander, who seeing them would turn back, but Olinda stays him.
Oli. Brother, come back.
Fal. Advance, advance, what, Man, afraid of me?
Alcan. How can she hold discourse with that Fantastick. [Aside.