[Exeunt Prince and Alcan.
Enter Page.
Page. My Lord, is’t you are fallen? Help, Murder! Murder!
Pis. Hold, bawling Dog.
Enter Alcippus in a Night-gown, with a Sword in his hand, a Page with Lights.
Alcip. ‘Twas hereabouts—who’s this, Pisaro wounded? [He looks up. How cam’st thou thus? Come up into my Arms.
Pis. ‘Twas Jealousy, Alcippus, that wild Monster,
Who never leaves us till he has thus betray’d us.
—Pox on’t, I am asham’d to look upon thee.
I have disturb’d you to no purpose, Sir.
I am not wounded, go to bed again.
Alcan. I’ll see thee to thy Lodgings first, Pisaro.
Pis. ‘Twill be unkind both to your self and me.
[Exeunt.