Ye Powers that guard the Innocent, protect us.
Alon. These must be some whom I have injur’d.
Ladies—you seem as in distress.
Dorm. Oh, Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a pair of Virgins.
Alon. What’s this, a mumping Matron? I hope the other’s young, or I have offer’d my Service to little purpose.
Clar. Sir, if you will have the Charity to assist us,
Do it speedily, we shall be very grateful to you.
Alon. Madam, I will, but know not where to carry ye; my Lodging is in an Inn, and is neither safe nor honourable: but Fortune dares no less than protect the Fair, and I’ll venture my Life in your Protection and Service. [Exeunt.
Enter Marcel faintly.
Mar. Stay, Traytor, stay—oh they are out of sight,
But may my Curse o’ertake them in their flight. [Exit.