Distaf. Why, sure you're not alarm'd at such a thing?
He's but a general, and you're a king.
[King conceals himself in a closet in flat.
Enter Bombastes.
Bombas. Lov'd Distaffina! now by my scars I vow,
Scars got—I haven't time to tell you how;
By all the risks my fearless heart hath run,
Risks of all shapes from bludgeon, sword, and gun.
Steel traps, the patrole, bailiff shrewd, and dun;
By the great bunch of laurel on my brow,