Death. Go to the devil. I will come when you least expect me.
Fashion. As if I were not immortal!
Death. Immortal?
"Already has passed the thousandth year,"
since the age of immortals ended.
Fashion. Madam is as much a Petrarchist as if she were an Italian poet of the fifteenth or eighteenth century.
Death. I like Petrarch because he composed my triumph, and because he refers so often to me. But I must be moving.
Fashion. Stay! For the love you bear to the seven cardinal sins, stop a moment and look at me.
Death. Well. I am looking.
Fashion. Do you not recognise me?