Montr. Villain, thou shalt not rob me of my due. [They fight.
Enter Athelstane, Agripyne, Orleans, Galloway, Cornwall, Chester, Lincoln, and Shadow with weapons at one door: Fortune, Vice, and their Attendants at the other.
All. Lay hands upon the murderers, strike them down.
Fortune. Surrender up this purse, for this is mine.
All. Are these two devils, or some powers divine?
Shad. O see, see, O my two masters, poor Shadow’s substances; what shall I do? Whose body shall Shadow now follow?
Fortune. Peace, idiot, thou shalt find rich heaps of fools,
That will be proud to entertain a shadow.
I charm thy babbling lips from troubling me.
You need not hold them, see, I smite them down
Lower than hell: base souls, sink to your heaven.
Vice. I do arrest you both my prisoners.
Fortune. Stand not amazed, you gods of earth, at this,
She that arresteth these two fools is Vice,
They have broke Virtue’s laws, Vice is her sergeant,
Her jailer and her executioner.
Look on those Cypriots, Fortunatus’ sons,
They and their father were my minions,
My name is Fortune.
All. O dread deity!