Come! I am weary for adventure! (Draws his cloak about him. Marsh somewhat reluctantly follows his example.) Let's see if there be sport about the wharves——
RICHARD
(to himself).
The wharves——
MARSH
(still reluctant).
On such a night as this—! Why, but a moment since you swore it was too cold! Besides, at the last tavern that we visited that fool of a Barton took my sword in jest. (Darkly.) He thought 'twas a rare bit of nonsense; but 'tis one I'll make him pay for! I'll not go roaming without my sword.
PENROSE
(insisting).
But I have mine. One sword's enough for both. More than enough for any Yankees we are like to meet. We could give some of them a rare fright, comrade. Come, then, in search of——
RICHARD
(who has utilized the time in which they were talking by silently taking a foil from the nearest chest).
Back! Do not come any nearer. You see this door is guarded.
[Stands before it, his mock humility gone, his voice resounding.