Char. Stay, Sir, we must not part so.
[Ex. Drawing at the same Door, that Sir Tim. is sneaking out at.
Come back I say. [Pulls in Sir Tim.
Slave! Dost thou tremble?—
Sir Tim. Sir, I’m not the Man you look for—
By Fortune, Sham, we’re all undone:
He has mistook me for the fighting Fellow.
Char. Villain, defend thy Life.
Sir Tim. Who, I, Sir? I have no quarrel to you, nor no man breathing, not I, by Fortune.
Cel. This Coward cannot be my Brother. [Aside.
Char. What made thee draw upon my Brother?
Sir Tim. Who, I, Sir? by Fortune, I love him—I draw upon him!
Char. I do not wonder thou canst lye, for thou’rt a Coward! Didst not thou draw upon him? Is not thy Sword yet out? Did I not see thee fierce, and active too, as if thou hadst dar’d?