Fear. The Breezes about this time of the Day begin to take wing, and fan refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.
Bac. And at these Hours how fragrant are the Groves!
Fear. The Country’s well, were but the people so.
Bac. But come, lets on— They pass to the Entrance.
Whim. There, Boys— The Soldiers come forth and fall on Bacon.
Bac. Hah! Ambush—
Draws, Fearless and Footmen draw, the Soldiers after a while fighting, take Bacon and Fearless, they having laid 3 or 4 dead.
Whiff. So, so, he’s taken; now we may venture out.
Whim. But are you sure he’s taken?
Whiff. Sure! can’t you believe your Eyes, come forth; I hate a Coward—Oh, Sir, have we caught your Mightiness.