_Enter_ ANTONIO, _in a rich African habit._
_Ant._ What do you mean, my dear, to stand talking in this suspicious
place, just underneath Johayma's window?--[_To the Mufti._] You are
well met, comrade; I know you are the friend of our flight: are the
horses ready at the postern gate?
_Muf._ Antonio, and in disguise! now I begin to smell a rat.
_Ant._ And I another, that out-stinks it. False Morayma, hast thou
thus betrayed me to thy father!
_Mor._ Alas! I was betrayed myself. He came disguised like you, and I,
poor innocent, ran into his hands.
_Muf._ In good time you did so; I laid a trap for a bitch-fox, and a
worse vermin has caught himself in it. You would fain break loose now,
though you left a limb behind you; but I am yet in my own territories,
and in call of company; that's my comfort.
_Ant._ [_Taking him by the throat._] No; I have a trick left to put
thee past thy squeaking. I have given thee the quinsy; that ungracious
tongue shall preach no more false doctrine.
_Mor._ What do you mean? you will not throttle him? consider he's my
father.
_Ant._ Pr'ythee, let us provide first for our own safety; if I do not
consider him, he will consider us, with a vengeance, afterwards.
_Mor._ You may threaten him for crying out; but, for my sake, give him
back a little cranny of his windpipe, and some part of speech.
_Ant.
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