_ Not so much as one single interjection.--Come away,
father-in-law, this is no place for dialogues; when you are in the
mosque, you talk by hours, and there no man must interrupt you. This
is but like for like, good father-in-law; now I am in the pulpit, it
is your turn to hold your tongue. [_He struggles._] Nay, if you will
be hanging back, I shall take care you shall hang forward.
[_Pulls him along the Stage, with
his Sword at his Reins._
_Mor._ The other way to the arbour with him; and make haste, before we
are discovered.
_Ant._ If I only bind and gag him there, he may commend me hereafter
for civil usage; he deserves not so much favour by any action of his
life.
_Mor._ Yes, pray bate him one,--for begetting your mistress.
_Ant._ I would, if he had not thought more of thy mother than of thee.
Once more, come along in silence, my Pythagorean father-in-law.
_Joh._ [_At the Balcony._] A bird in a cage may peep, at least, though
she must not fly.--What bustle's there beneath my window? Antonio, by
all my hopes! I know him by his habit. But what makes that woman with
him, and a friend, a sword drawn, and hasting hence? This is no time
for silence:--Who's within? call there, where are the servants? why,
Omar, Abedin, Hassan, and the rest, make haste, and run into the
garden; there are thieves and villains; arm all the family, and stop
them.
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