Don John. Are they all asleep?
Lop. Dead.
Don John. Enough; shut the Door.
Lop. 'Tis done.
Don John. Now, begone.
Lop. What! Shut the Door first, and then begone! Now, methinks, I might as well have gone first, and then shut the Door.
Don John. I bid you begone, you Dog, you, do you find the way.
Lop. [Aside.] Stark mad, and always so when a Woman's in chace. But, Sir, will you keep your chief Minister out of the Secrets of your State? Pray, let me know what this Night's Work is to be.
Don John. No Questions, but march.