Jaco. Why don’t you drink? (pours out wine) Every brave man drinks.
Todd. You think I’m brave? (drinks)
Jaco. You’re a devil! And yet how we may be deceived by appearances—to judge by your looks—I should say you were a coward.
Todd. (aside) Nature writes a plain hand!
Jaco. But I know that in that breast beats the heart of a lion.
Todd. (aside) He means a mouse—the smallest of mice.
Jaco. Never saw anything like your coolness this morning, when you were attacked.
Todd. It was you then, who—
Jaco. (takes up Todd’s hat) Made this hole in your hat. I meant to have made a bole in your head—half an inch lower, and the bullet would have been through your brain.