[A noise within: Follow, follow, follow.]
CLARE.
Peace, that's my father's voice.
BRIAN.
Z'ownds, you suspected them, and now they are here indeed.
MILLISCENT.
Alas, what shall we do?
BRIAN.
If you go to the lodge, you are surely taken;
Strike down the wood to Enfield presently,
And if Mounchensey come, I'll send him t'yee.
Let me alone to bussle with your father;
I warrant you that I will keep them play
Till you have quit the chase; away, away!
[Exeunt all but Brian.]
Who's there?
[Enter the Knights.]
SIR RAPH.
In the king's name, pursue the Ravisher!
BRIAN.
Stand, or I'll shoot.