_Fres._ Yes, sir, when I have recovered my spirits. My memory is almost frighted from me.--Oh, so, so, so!--Why, sir, as I came along the street, sir--this same gentleman came stumbling after me and trod o' my heel.--I cried O. Do you cry, sirrah? says he. Let me see your heel; if it be not hurt I'll make you cry for something. So he claps my head between his legs and pulls off my shoe. I having shifted no socks in a sen'night, the gentleman cried foh! and said my feet were base and cowardly feet, they stunk for fear. Then he knocked my shoe about my pate, and I cried O once more. In the meantime comes a shag-haired dog by, and rubs against his shins. The gentleman took the dog in shag-hair to be some watchman in a rug gown, and swore he would hang me up at the next door with my lanthorn in my hand, that passengers might see their way as they went, without rubbing against gentlemen's shins. So, for want of a cord, he took his own garters off, and as he was going to make a noose, I watched my time and ran away. And as I ran, indeed I bid him hang himself in his own garters. So he, in choler, pursued me hither, as you see. _Bel._ Why, this savours of distraction. _Lev._ Of mere distraction. _Fres._ Howsover it savours, I am sure it smells like a lie. [_Aside._ _Bel._ Thou may'st go forth at the back door, honest fellow; the way is private and safe. _Fres._ So it had need, for your fore-door here is both common and dangerous. [_Exit_ BELFOREST. _Lev._ Good night, honest Fresco. _Fres._ Good night, madam. If you get me kissing o' ladies again!--[_Exit._ _Lev._ This falls out handsomely. But yet the matter does not well succeed, Till I have brought it to the very deed. [_Exit._ SCENE VI.--_A Camp._ _Enter_ CHARLEMONT _in arms, a_ Musketeer, _and a_ Serjeant. _Charl._ Serjeant, what hour o' the night is't? _Serj._ About one. _Charl._ I would you would relieve me, for I am So heavy that I shall ha' much ado To stand out my perdu. [_Thunder and lightning._ _Serj._ I'll e'en but walk The round, sir, and then presently return. _Sol._ For God's sake, serjeant, relieve me. Above five hours together in so foul a stormy night as this! _Serj._ Why 'tis a music, soldier. Heaven and earth are now in consort, when the thunder and the cannon play one to another. [_Exit_ Serjeant. _Charl._ I know not why I should be thus inclined To sleep. I feel my disposition pressed With a necessity of heaviness. Soldier, if thou hast any better eyes, I prithee wake me when the serjeant comes. _Sol._ Sir, 'tis so dark and stormy that I shall Scarce either see or hear him, ere he comes Upon me. _Charl._ I cannot force myself to wake.--[_Sleeps._ _Enter the_ Ghost _of_ MONTFERRERS.