Every man shift for all the rest, and
let no man take care for himself; for all is
but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here’s a goodly sight.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy ’em?