Pas. This road, methinks, should lead us on our way
To the prince’s camp! Fool, go you on before.
[As they retire, enter Captain and Soldiers.
Capt. Not quite so fast, good master: prithee, halt.
Fla. What, guards! O! brother, now we are undone.
Pas. Be calm, be calm! the troops are not my father’s.
Wil’t please you, sir, inform us whence ye came?
Capt. From Scotland, sir.
Fla. Then, O! good heav’ns protect me!
Pas. And who is your commander?