Spado. Ay, egad, there he lies, with a face as innocent—[Aside.]—If my fellow-rooks would but fly off, I'd have the pigeon here within all to myself.
Cal. [Appears at the Top of the winding Stairs, with a Lanthorn.] A booty.
Sang. Good news, cavaliers; here comes Calvette.
Cal. A booty!
Sang. What! where?
Cal. Soft—but one man!
Sang. But one man! Is he alone?
Cal. Quite.
Spado. One man, and alone—that's odd!