Rod. O villains, beasts.

Ped. Murdering a man, ye Rascals?
Ye inhumane slaves, off, off, and leave this cruelty,
Or as I am a Gentleman: do ye brave me?
Then have among ye all, ye slaves, ye cowards,
Take up that sword, and stand: stay ye base rascals,
Ye cut-throat rogues.

All. Away, away. [Exeunt Pes.

Ped. Ye dog-whelps.

Rod. O, I am now more wretched far, than ever.

Ped. A violence to that habit? ha? Roderigo,
What makes he here, thus clad? is it repentance,
Or only a fair shew to guile his mischiefs?

Rod. This benefit has made me shame to see him,
To know him, blush.

Ped. You are not much hurt?

Rod. No Sir;
All I can call a hurt, sticks in my conscience,
That pricks and tortures me.

Ped. Have ye consider'd
The nature of these men, and how they us'd ye?
Was it fair play? did it appear to you handsom?