He's a French Prince! That's certain, anyhow!

OTRANTO.

We must abduct him!

FLAMBEAU.

Back!

OTRANTO.

My coach is here.

FLAMBEAU.

I'll run you through the body if you touch him!

THE DUKE.

Back! or with whip uplifted I will charge After the fashion of Murat, my uncle!

PROKESCH.

Stand back!

THE DUKE.

Help, Prokesch!

VOICES.

We shall have to force him.

THE DUKE.

[_To the_ ATTACHe.]

And you, who say you came in my defence, It is by robbing me of faith and scruple, They would a.s.sa.s.sinate me truly! Now, defend me!

THE ATTACHe.

No, Sire! begone!

THE DUKE.

What, _you!_ this base advice?

THE ATTACHe.

Go, Sire, I will defend the woman.

THE DUKE.

You?

You cannot.

THE ATTACHe.

Not as partisan; as friend.

THE DUKE.

It would ensure my flight.

THE ATTACHe.

Begone, my Lord.

Whate'er I do is for the Countess.

THE DUKE.

Yes, But I--

PROKESCH.

I'll lead him.

THE ATTACHe.

Prokesch knows the way.

THE DUKE.

[_Still hesitating._]

I cannot--

VOICES.

Yes!

MARMONT.

The better way!

VOICES.

Begone.