incantation to lay the supposed ghost, which Anselmo says kneeling and
hardly able to speak for terror.]

PAND. (_Laughing_). In spite of my indignation, I cannot help
laughing.

ANS. It is strange, but you are very merry for a dead man.

PAND. Is this a joke, pray tell me, or is it downright madness to treat
a living man as if he were dead?

ANS. Alas! you must be dead; I myself just now saw you.

PAND. What? Could I die without knowing it?

ANS. As soon as Mascarille told me the news, I was ready to die of
grief.

PAND. But, really, are you asleep or awake? Don't you know me?

ANS. You are clothed in an aerial body which imitates your own, but
which may take another shape at any moment. I am mightily afraid to see
you swell up to the size of a giant, and your countenance become
frightfully distorted. For the love of God, do not assume any hideous
form; you have scared me sufficiently for the nonce.

PAND. At any other time, Anselmo, I should have considered the
simplicity which accompanies your credulity an excellent joke, and I
should have carried on the pleasant conceit a little longer; but this
story of my death, and the news of the supposed treasure, which I was