The trumpet of the watch to shut us in.

Oh, should they find you!--Quick! Behind the rocks!

To-morrow--if to-morrow--

ROS. (flinging her sword toward him).

Take my sword!

(Rosaura and Fife hide in the rocks; Enter Clotaldo)

CLOTALDO.

These stormy days you like to see the last of Are but ill opiates, Segismund, I think, For night to follow: and to-night you seem More than your wont disorder'd. What! A sword?

Within there!

(Enter Soldiers with black vizors and torches)

FIFE.

Here's a pleasant masquerade!

CLO.

Whosever watch this was Will have to pay head-reckoning. Meanwhile, This weapon had a wearer. Bring him here, Alive or dead.

SEG.

Clotaldo! good Clotaldo!--

CLO. (to Soldiers who enclose Segismund; others searching the rocks).

You know your duty.

SOLDIERS (bringing in Rosaura and Fife).

Here are two of them, Whoever more to follow--

CLO.

Who are you, That in defiance of known proclamation Are found, at night-fall too, about this place?

FIFE.

Oh, my Lord, she--I mean he--

ROS.

Silence, Fife, And let me speak for both.--Two foreign men, To whom your country and its proclamations Are equally unknown; and had we known, Ourselves not masters of our lawless beasts That, terrified by the storm among your rocks, Flung us upon them to our cost.

FIFE.

My mule--

CLO.

Foreigners? Of what country?

ROS.

Muscovy.

CLO.

And whither bound?

ROS.

Hither--if this be Poland; But with no ill design on her, and therefore Taking it ill that we should thus be stopt Upon her threshold so uncivilly.

CLO.

Whither in Poland?

ROS.

To the capital.

CLO.

And on what errand?

ROS.

Set me on the road, And you shall be the nearer to my answer.

CLO. (aside).

So resolute and ready to reply, And yet so young--and-- (Aloud.) Well,-- Your business was not surely with the man We found you with?

ROS.

He was the first we saw,-- And strangers and benighted, as we were, As you too would have done in a like case, Accosted him at once.

CLO.

Ay, but this sword?

ROS.

I flung it toward him.

CLO.

Well, and why?

ROS.

And why? But to revenge himself on those who thus Injuriously misuse him.

CLO.

So--so--so!

'Tis well such resolution wants a beard And, I suppose, is never to attain one.

Well, I must take you both, you and your sword, Prisoners.

FIFE. (offering a cudgel).

Pray take mine, and welcome, sir; I'm sure I gave it to that mule of mine To mighty little purpose.

ROS.

Mine you have; And may it win us some more kindliness Than we have met with yet.

CLO (examining the sword).

More mystery!

How came you by this weapon?

ROS.