Kyrle Anne!
Anne Hold your tongue—his life’s in danger, and if I can’t love him, I’ll fight for him, and that’s more than any of you men can do. [To O’Moore.] Go on with your dirty work. You have done the worst now—you have dismayed our guests, scattered terror amid our festival, and made the remembrance of this night, which should have been a happy one, a thought of gloom and shame.
Mrs. C Hark! I hear—I hear his voice. It can not be.
Re-enter Corrigan, L. 3 E.
Corrig The prisoner is here!
Mrs. C [C.] Ah, [Utters a cry.] is he? Dark bloodhound, have you found him? May the tongue that tells me so be withered from the roots, and the eye that first detected him be darkened in its socket!
Kyrle Oh, madam! for heaven’s sake!
Anne Mother! mother!
Mrs. C What! shall it be for nothing he has stung the mother’s heart, and set her brain on fire?
Enter Hardress, handcuffed, and two Soldiers, L. 3 E.