BEN DOLLARD: (Smites his thigh in abundant laughter.) Hold him now.
HENRY: (Caressing on his breast a severed female head, murmurs.) Thine heart, mine love.
(He plucks his lutestrings.) When first I saw...
VIRAG: (Sloughing his skins, his multitudinous plumage moulting.) Rats! (He yawns, showing a coalblack throat, and closes his jaws by an upward push of his parchmentroll.) After having said which I took my departure. Farewell. Fare thee well. Dreck!
(Henry Flower combs his moustache and beard rapidly with a pocketcomb and gives a cow’s lick to his hair. Steered by his rapier, he glides to the door, his wild harp slung behind him. Virag reaches the door in two ungainly