O’Shan. [Aside.] If he should fight! My poor Mother; och, if she could see me now, ’twould pit her into high-strikes. Is no one coming to help me?
Charles. [Aside.] If I could but touch his kinder feelings! I have been accustomed to steal hearts, but I fear that I should find his steeled already. I must make one more effort to steal past him. But the sight of his matchlock makes my blood run cold.
O’Shan. Och! he’s coming nearer. O for pity’s sake ...
Charles. If mercy ever touched your bosom ...
Enter Corporal Catchup.
O’Shan. Catch him! catch him! ’tis he, the Pretender! catch him, Corporal! collar him! never fear!
Corp. Who? the old woman?
O’Shan. Catch him, I say, and never be frightened for him, man. I found him out.
Charles. So—all is lost.
Corp. A man in disguise! it must be he. Bind him, O’Shannon. This is a prize indeed.