Lynx. That is a mystery that I dare not disclose, even to you.
Cod. Bless me! what two reprobates we are.
Lynx. Come to the drawing-room, I must make some excuse for your leaving the table.—Now be bold.
Cod. Yes, yes.
Lynx. Do not equivocate.
Cod. No, no.
Lynx. On your moral courage depends your own safety, and my happiness.
Cod. I know it, I know it.
Lynx. And the least appearance of timidity may ruin us; now, are you ready?
Cod. Wait a moment.—(Buttoning his coat up to his throat with great resolution.)—When I expect to be excited, I like to be guarded against taking cold—against the effects of draughts and currents of air. My courage is rising—it’s up—now I’m ready—give me your arm—there, look at me! Did you ever see a finer illustration of desperate courage? Never.—Now to the field of action—to mortal strife—and death or victory.