Cokes. By this good day, they fight bravely; do they not, Numps?
Waspe. Yes, they lack’d but you to be their second all this while.
Leath. This tragical encounter falling out thus to busy us,
It raises up the ghost of their friend Dionysius;
Not like a monarch, but the master of a school,
In a scrivener’s furr’d gown, which shews he is no fool:
For therein he hath wit enough to keep himself warm.
O Damon, he cries, and Pythias, what harm
Hath poor Dionysius done you in his grave,
That after his death you should fall out thus and rave,