Mir. Thou canst not stir now,
Leave it ith'door, go get the horses ready. [Exeunt.
Enter Rocca, Mountferrat, Abdella, with a dark Lanthorn.
Roc. The door's already open, the Key in it.
Mount. What were those past by?
Roc. Some scout of Soldiers, I think.
Mount. It may well be so, for I saw their horses:
They saw not us I hope.
Abd. No, no, we were close,
Beside they were far off.
Mount. What time of night is't?
Abd. Much about twelve I think.
Roc. Let me go in first
For by the leaving open of the door here
There may be some body in the Church: give me the Lanthorne.