second citizen.
Treason, I wot, with bold and impious front,
Stalks forth uncheck'd:—it skulks not now abroad,
But in the open day roams unabash'd,
Nor shuns the sunbeam. Some unform'd event
Is yet in ripening—it bursts ere long
The shell of this dread mystery.
Enter Grave-digger and Priest.
grave-digger.
None, father, save the Egyptian woman, who so troubles the church. She slept in the porch yesternight, and I sent her away this morning betimes.
priest.
Thou hast sent a message to the Duke?
grave-digger.
Some half-hour agone.—I expect his highness in person will take special note of this matter.
priest.
I fear me they be foes, enemies to the Duke, who have done this.—Treachery puts on bold aspects, when such foretokenings as these go before her, with loud admonishing of her approach. Here comes the Duke.
Enter Duke with Attendants.
duke.
Good morrow, friends. I am something curious to behold this device.—Some trick of intimidation, your petty wonder-monger breeds to set our citizens agape.—You have not disturbed this masked frolic?
grave-digger.
My lord, it rests in such shape as when it scared me dismally ere the light was well out, about cock-crowing.
duke.
Knowest thou any skulking vagrant of late loitering near the church?