(Alonzo, Manuel, and their people rush on the Judge, Alguazils, etc., disarm them, and beat them out.)
Alon. (embracing Gil). My friend is free.
Gil. And what first use shall make
Of freedom?
Ped. Why, turn Friar; you can then
Be free and easy too, and leave me so.
Oh, sir, have I not had enough of terror,
Exile, and hunger, to deserve your pardon?
Plead for me, Don Alonso.
Alon. Gil—