These words had the effect of spurring Johnny on to a more perfect acting of his part, more especially since some of his friends in the audience cried out, in a friendly way, "Go for him, Shiner, an' give him fits."
Then Johnny did "go for" his adversary almost too strongly, for he refused to die as Mopsey had told him he must, but continued to strike out wildly with his sword, hitting Mopsey's weapon a portion of the time, and when he failed in that, coming so near Richard's face that it seemed certain he would slice off one of his ears or his nose.
It was a furious combat, truly, and the audience favored it with the most generous applause, some inciting Mopsey and others Johnny to renewed exertions, until Mrs. Green started up in alarm, fearing that a riot would ensue.
"Why don't you die?" whispered Mopsey, hoarsely, as he panted from exertion, and believed that in justice to the other performers the battle should end.
But Johnny refused positively to die, and it is probable that he would have continued the fight as long as he had strength or breath left, had he not been the victim of his own architectural shortcomings. He, the one who had built the stage, actually forgot the pitfalls in the form of spaces left uncovered because of lack of lumber; and in the excitement and fury of the battle, minding only the shouts of encouragement from the audience, he fell into one of these yawning pits, and Richard had a chance to become himself once more. With head down and heels up, the unfortunate Othello struggled in the prisoning space until every one of the bottle foot-lights had been displaced, and an even dozen of the audience seated themselves on the floor, holding the candles in their hands obligingly. Ben had taken Dickey from his leaning-place against the wall, and brought him to the side from which he was to make his entrance when Richard and Othello had first begun to fight, so that when Johnny fell he rushed on in a sidelong way, in order to present his sword-arm to the conqueror.
King Richard was so entirely exhausted from his long struggle that he had apparently forgotten the course he had marked out for the rest of his company, and was leaning on his sword, gazing at the supposed-to-be-dead Othello, wondering whether he ought to help him to rise or not, when Ben launched Dickey full at him. He had no time to parry the shock, nor Macbeth to check the force with which Ben had sent him, and the consequence was that Richard and Macbeth fell almost directly on top of the struggling Othello with a thud that threatened to rend asunder each particular board of the frail stage.