Fal. Ay, the Devil when a body’s angry, but that’s
Not the Valour in mode; Men fight now a-days
Without that, and even embrace whilst they draw
Their Swords on one another.
Lab. Ay, Sir, those are Men that despise their lives.
Fal. Why, that’s it, Labree, that I would learn to do, And which I fear, nothing but Poverty will make me do; Jove defend me from that experiment.
Enter Erminia veil’d with a thin Tiffany.
Lab. What’s the matter, Sir? Does the fit take you now?
Fal. Save us, save us, from the Fiend.
Lab. A Ghost, a Ghost! O, O, O!
[They fall shaking on the ground.
Er. This was a happy mistake, Now I may pass with safety. [Ex.
Fal. Look up, Labree, if thou hast any of that Courage thou spakest of but now.