Soldier: That has he! Ah,
That has he!
Captain: Well, be close. None must escape,
Remember, none be hurt. As for the princess,
We'll hear the chink of ducats with her thanks.
Soldier: Madonna save her!—The Judas of a father
Who robs her rest!
Captain (looking down the hall): 'Tis she who comes this way.
So go, and haste. But fail not.
Soldier: If I do,
Bury me with a pagan, next a Turk!
(Goes.
Enter Fulvia.
Captain: Princess—
Fulvia: Our plans grow to fulfilment—are
No way misplanted?
Captain: Lady, all seems now
Seasonable for their expected fruit.
Fulvia: No accident appears to threat and thwart them?