_Phil_. Nor care I, I will stay, and brave it.

_Men_. That, Sir, you shall not, there's no safety here,
And 'tis the Army only can secure us.

_Phil_. Where had you this Intelligence?

_Men_. I'll tell you as we go to my Apartment;
Where we must put ourselves in Holy Dress;
For so the Guards are set in every Place,
(And those all Moors, the Slaves of _Abdelazer_)
That 'tis impossible in any other Habit to escape.
Come, haste with me, and let us put 'em on.

_Phil_. I had rather stay and kill till I am weary--
Let's to the Queen's Apartment and seize this Moor;
I'm sure there the Mongrel's kennel'd.

_Men_. Sir, we lose time in talking--Come with me.

_Phil_. Where be these lousy Gaberdines?

_Men_. I will conduct you to 'em.

_Phil_. Mother--and Moor, farewel,
I'll visit you again; and if I do,
My black Infernal, I will conjure you.

[_Exeunt_.