Seb. Boy, dost thou hear, thou stripling?
Alin. Now they will tear me, torture me, now Roderigo
Will hang [him] without mercy; ha?
Cur. Come hither.
A very pretty boy: what place is this, child?
And whither dost thou travel? how he stares!
Some stubborn Master has abus'd the boy,
And beaten him: how he complains! whither goest thou?
Alin. I go to Segovia Sir, to my sick Mother,
I have been taken here by drunken thieves,
And (O my bones!) I have been beaten Sir.
Mis-us'd, and rob'd: extreamly beaten Gentlemen,
O God, my side!
Seb. What beasts would use a boy thus?
Look up, and be of good cheer.
Alin. O, I cannot.
My back, my back, my back.
Cur. What thieves?
Alin. I know not.
But they call the Captain Roderigo.
Cur. Look ye,
I knew we were thereabouts.
Seb. Do'st thou want any thing?