[Aside.
Chekitan.
Don't mutter here, and conjure up your Saints,
I value not their Curses, or your Prayers.
[Stepping towards the Priest to hurry him.
Priest.
By all the Saints, young Man, thou shalt repent it.
[Exit.
Monelia.
Base, false Dissembler—Tyger, Snake, a Christian!
I hate the Sight; I fear the very Name.
O Prince, what has not your kind Presence sav'd me!
Chekitan.