Gons. I'll walk a little while among these trees,
Now the fresh evening air blows from the hills,
And breathes the sweetness of the orange flowers
Upon me, from the gardens hear the city.
Robbers within.
1 Rob. I say, make sure, and kill him.
Hip. For heaven's dear sake have pity on my youth.
[Within.
Gons. Some violence is offered in the wood
By robbers to a traveller: Whoe'er
Thou art, humanity obliges me
To give thee succour.
Hip. Help! ah cruel men! [Within.
Gons. This way, I think, the voice came; 'tis not far. [Exit.
The SCENE draws, and discovers HIPPOLITO bound to a tree, and two Robbers by him with drawn swords.
2 Rob. Strip him, and let him go.