Lope. Then take thou
The answer!
(Strikes Urrea, who falls: confusion.)
A voice. What have you done?
Another. Help, help!
Voices. After him, after him!—the parricide!
(Lope rushes out and the people after him.)
Guil. I know not how to leave the poor old man—
Come, let me help you, sir.
Urr. Parricide!