RICHARD
(to himself).
The wharves----

MARSH
(still reluctant).
On such a night as this--! Why, but a moment since you swore it was too
cold! Besides, at the last tavern that we visited that fool of a Barton
took my sword in jest. (Darkly.) He thought 'twas a rare bit of
nonsense; but 'tis one I'll make him pay for! I'll not go roaming
without my sword.

PENROSE
(insisting).
But I have mine. One sword's enough for both. More than enough for any
Yankees we are like to meet. We could give some of them a rare fright,
comrade. Come, then, in search of----

RICHARD
(who has utilized the time in which they were talking by silently
taking a foil from the nearest chest).
Back! Do not come any nearer. You see this door is guarded.

[Stands before it, his mock humility gone, his voice resounding.

MARSH
(angrily).
What does this mean?

RICHARD