Enter Lord Carey by ordinary door.
Carey (forgetting himself in his confusion). Odds my zounds, dod sink me! What murrain is this?
Roger (seizing Sir Thomas's sword, which had been accidentally left behind on the table, as I ought to have said before, and advancing threateningly). It means, my lord, that a villain's time has come. Wilt say a prayer?
(They fight, and Carey is disarmed before they can hurt each other.)
Carey (dying game). Strike, Master Dale!
Roger. Nay, I cannot kill in cold blood.
(He throws down his sword. Lord Carey exhibits considerable emotion at this, and decides to turn over an entirely new leaf.)
Enter two soldiers.
Carey. Arrest that man! (Roger is seized again.) Mistress Dorothy, it is for you to say what shall be done with the prisoner.
Dorothy (standing up if she was sitting down, and sitting down if she was standing up). Ah, give him to me, my lord!