Fri. I’m very confident that he’s here already.
Bon. Thy Looks, me-thinks, speak Conquest sure thy own; an ardent Rage has kindled both thy Cheeks.
Fri. Like a red Morning, Friend; which still foretels a stormy Day to follow—And now I well observe your Face, me-thinks it waxes pale, there’s Death in it already.
Bon. How, Friendly, do you then take me for a Coward? My Face look pale, and Death in it already? By Heav’n, shou’d any but my Friendly dare to tell me what thou hast said, my Sword shou’d ram the base Affront down the curst Villain’s Throat. But you are my Friend, and I must only chide your Error. But prethee tell me who is it you are to fight with, for as yet I am ignorant both of the Cause and Person.
Fri. Ha, his Name! Did you enquire his Name?
Bon. Yes.
Fri. I dare not yet reveal it for fear of——
Bon. For fear of what?
Fri. O Confusion! I know not what to say!
Bon. How, afraid to tell his Name? Then I begin to doubt the Justice of your Quarrel.