Enter Constable and Watchmen.
Const. Where, where was this clashing of swords? So-ho! So-ho! You, sir, what, are you dead? Speak, friend; what are you afraid of? If you are dead, the law can't take hold of you.
Watch. I beg your pardon, Mr. Constable, he ought by the law to be carried to the Round-house for being dead at this time of night.
Const. Then away with him, you three——And you, gentlemen, follow me to find out who killed him. [Exeunt.
Enter Simon.
Sim. What's the matter, good gentlemen, what's the matter? Oh, me! Mr. Lovemore killed! Oh, me! My mind gives me that it must be about our young lady.
Watch. Does it so, sir? Then you must stay with us. [Some hold Simon, whilst others carry Lovemore off.
Sim. I stay with you! Oh, gemini! Indeed, I can't——They can't be without me at our house.
Watch. But they must, friend——Harkee, friend—I hope you'll be hanged. [Whispers him.
Sim. I hanged! Pray, sir, take care of your words. Madam Penelope's, our young lady's servant, hanged! Take care what you say.