FOOTNOTES:
[55] It may be mentioned here, that throughout the third edition certain sententious passages, and moral and political apothegms, are printed in italics. This ultra-loyal line, and some others of the same kind so distinguished, were first inserted in the copy of the play published two years before the death of the author.—Collier.
[56] In the year 1572 the town of Mons, in Hainault, was surprised by Count Lodowicke, who fortified himself in it, intending to hold it against the power of Spain. It was soon after invested by the Duke of Alva, and surrendered to him after a long siege, notwithstanding the Prince of Orange, who came before it with an army, with which he some time harassed his enemy, but without effecting his principal design.
[57] [Former edits., march.]
[58] [Former edits., luckily.]
[59] In the third edition, by an error, this speech is not distinguished from Antonio's description, but it would evidently belong to Octavio, even if, in the two earlier copies, the same mistake had been committed.—Collier.
[60] [i.e., On. Former edits., of.]
[61] [In former edits. this line is given to Diego.]
[62] [Perhaps we should read With.]
[ACT III.]
Scene.—Don Henrique's house.
Camilla, Porcia, and Flora appear in a balcony.
Por. Come, cousin, the hour assign'd approaches.
Cam. Nay, more than so; for 'tis already night.
Flo. And, thanks to your stars, sufficiently dark.
Por. To the clouds you would say, Flora; for stars,
In this occasion, would not much befriend us.
Pray, cousin, when Octavio shall arrive,
Do you and Flora watch above with care;
For if my cruel brother should surprise us——
Cam. Let us alone to play the sentinels.
Flo. I'm confident he's abroad, and will not
Suddenly return; for I heard him say
He'd pass the evening at the corregidor's:
And thence, you know, he seldom comes home early.
Enter Antonio, Octavio, and Diego, with their cloaks over their faces, and their swords undrawn in their hands.
Don A. Is it not something early for adventures
Of this nature.
Don O. 'Tis the hour she appointed.
Don A. How dark 'tis grown o' th' sudden! there's not one
Star appears in all the firmament.
Diego. So much the better; for when I must fight,
I covet no spectators of my prowess. [Aside.
Don O. Stay you here, Antonio; I'll step before,
and give the sign. When you hear the door open,
then come on, and follow me in.
Enter at the other side of the stage Don Henrique and Don Carlos.
Don H. The corregidor's is a sweet place.
Don C. The walks and fountains so entice me, I still
Weary myself before I can retire.
Don H. Indeed we have stay'd longer than we thought,
And therefore let's go home the shorter way:
The back-door of my garden's here at hand.
Don C. It will be better than to go about.
Por. Would he were come, I fear the rising moon
Will give us little time.
[Above in the balcony. Octavio knocks upon the hilt of his sword.
I think I hear his usual knock. Who's there?
Don O. 'Tis I.
Por. I hope y' are not alone.
Don O. No; here's Diego with me, and a friend.
Por. 'Tis well. I'll open the door presently.
Don H. Come, we are now hard by the garden-gate.
Don O. Let's to the door; sure, she's there by this time.
Be not afraid, Diego.
Diego. You had as good command me not to breathe.
Don O. Come on; what are you thinking on?
Diego. That I see company, or that my fear does.
Don O. Y' are i' th' right; let's, to avoid suspicion,
Walk on at large till they are out of distance.
[The noise of a lock.
Don C. I think I heard your garden door open.
Don H. I think so too; ha! at this time of the night?
Why, what a devil can this mean? 'Tis so.
Don A. They have open'd this door: 'tis time for me
To follow; surely Octavio is gone in.
[Antonio goes towards the door.
Por. What stay you for? [Holding the door half open.
Don H. What is't I hear? sure, 'tis Porcia's voice.
Por. What mean you to stand there? come in, I say.
Don H. Hell and furies! [He goes to draw his sword.
Don C. Be patient, sir, and you will make a clearer
Discovery of your affront.
Por. You may come in securely, Octavio. [Setting open the door.
I have set those will watch my brother's coming.
Don A. Madam, I am not Octavio.
Por. Not Octavio! who are you then, and who's
That shadow there?
Don H. I can hold no longer. [Aside.] I'm thy destiny,
[Draws his sword.
Vile woman, and his mortal enemy.
Don A. Ha, my mortal enemy?
Don H. Yes, villain. Whoe'er them art, thou shalt pay
This treachery with thy life.
Don A. Vain man! whoe'er thou art, know [that] the life
Thou threaten'st is guarded by a trusty sword.
[Don Carlos draws, and they all enter the garden fighting.
Don H. Make fast the door. [To Don Carlos.
Thou art some desperate villain hir'd to murder.
[Octavio and Diego come to the door.
Don A. Hir'd by friendship, and honour's my salary. [In the garden.
Don O. That's Antonio's voice within the garden:
[Runs to the door and finds it shut.
What, the door shut! my friend engaged, and I
Excluded! cursed fate! this tree may help me
To climb o'er; if not, I'll fly t' him. [He climbs up.
Diego. You may do so; your sprightly love has wings,
And's ever fledg'd;[63] 'tis moulting-time with mine:
Yet I'll up too; the hazard's not in climbing.
[Diego climbs the tree.
Here I will sit, and out of danger's reach
Expect the issue.
Scene changes to a garden, out of which they issue fighting.
Don O. Courage, brave friend; you have Octavio by you.
Don A. So seconded, a coward would grow firm.
Don H. What, is there more of your crew? then 'tis time
To call for help. Ho! Silvio, Geraldo,
Pedro! come forth, and bring out torches with you.
Enter Silvio, with his sword drawn.
Sil. Here am I, sir, my camarades[64] will follow [They fight.
As soon as they have lighted their torches.
Don A. How I despise these slaves, Octavio,
Having you by me!
Diego. Their swords do clatter bravely in the dark. [In the tree.
Sil. I'm slain.
[Silvio falls. Don Henrique, stepping back, falls over Silvio, and loses his sword, and Carlos runs in to him.
Don C. What,[65] are you hurt?
Don H. No, I fell by chance; help me to find my sword.
Don O. What, do you give back? you do well to take breath,
Whilst you have any left; 'twill not be long,
Now that the rising moon lends us some light.
[The rising moon appears behind the scene. Porcia runs out to Octavio.
Por. O Octavio, let not this moment slip
To free me from my cruel brother's fury,
Or never hope to see me any more
Amongst the living. [Octavio leads her away by the arm.
Don O. Ah, noble maid! he that is once possess'd
Of such a treasure, and defends it not,
Let him live wretched, and detested die.
Where's my brave friend?
Don A. You have me by your side: lead off your mistress;
I'll secure your retreat.
Diego. That, doubtless, is my master who, victorious,
[In the tree, pointing to those who are going off.
Is bravely marching off with his fair prize:
I'll down and follow.
Don C. But whilst I was engag'd to succour you,
[Having helped up Don Henrique.
Our enemies, I fear, are got away:
I heard the door open, and see none here:
Although the night's much brighter than it was.
I'll follow, and trace the villains, if I can,
To their dens: meanwhile take care of your sister:
And pray, till my return, be moderate.
Don H. How! moderation in this case?—what, ho!
Geraldo, Pedro! Ah, ye cursed rogues!
Enter Servants with torches.
Durst ye not show your heads till they were gone?
Geraldo, light me in, whilst Pedro looks
To his hurt companion. Ah, Porcia, Porcia!
[Exeunt Don Henrique and Geraldo: Pedro carries out Silvio fainting with his hurts.
Scene changes to the city of Seville. Enter Don Octavio, Porcia, Don Antonio, and a little after Diego, and after them Don Carlos.
Diego. Sure, that's Antonio bringing up the rear?
Sir, th' are but just before; my master bears her
[Looking back to Don Carlos.
Most gallantly away: lose not sight of me.
Don C. This rogue takes me for one of his own crew;
He will by his mistake help me to harbour 'em. [Exeunt.
Camilla and Flora appear in the balcony. Scene changes to Don Henrique's house.
Cam. Was there ever such a disaster, Flora?
Sure, th' are all dead, so great's the silence.
Porcia! Porcia! Nobody answers.
Flo. Madam, let us go down into the garden.
Cam. Excuse me; that were to involve myself
In this unlucky scandal. 'Tis possible,
Affrighted with the scuffle, she's return'd
Into her quarter by the other door;
Let's away thither. [They go down upon the stage.
Flo. O madam! I see a light, and Don Henrique coming this way with his sword drawn; what shall we do?
Cam. Peace; let us hide ourselves behind the door
[They go behind the door.
Till we discover his intentions.
Enter Don Henrique and Geraldo with a torch, and Pedro with a light: Don Henrique and Geraldo, their swords drawn.
Ped. Sir, I have search'd all the rooms of the house,
And cannot find her.
Don H. Base, infamous woman! maybe, she's fled
To the quarter order'd for Antonio.
Ped. That door is lock'd, and's servant has the key.
Don H. Ah, this cursed vagabond! thus to rob [He stamps.
A brother of the fruits of all his care,
And cast this stain on th' honour of our house!
But if ever I get the fugitive
Within my reach, I'll sacrifice her blood
To the offended spirits of my ancestors.
Flo. Madam, d' you hear?
Cam. Yes, and tremble, Flora.
Don H. Call for her woman.
Ped. Flora! Flora!
Enter Flora.
Flo. My good angel guard me! What's your pleasure, sir?
Don H. Where's your mistress, hussy?
Flo. She told me, sir, about half an hour since,
She would go down into the garden. [Exit Flora.
Don H. My shame is certain. Ah! the sad condition
Of us men of honour! how unequally
Our crosses and our comforts mingled are!
Our orphan sisters are no sooner grown
Above the follies of their childish age
(During which season custom does exact
Our watchful caution over all their actions),
But they are grafted on some stranger stock,
Where they do change both their abodes and names
Without the least reflection on their kindness,
Who pain'd themselves to cultivate their youth;
Or else remain to exercise our fears.
O unjust heavens! why suffer you that they,
Who to our joys of life such bubbles are,
Should add such weight unto our griefs and care?
Ah, Porcia, Porcia!.
Enter Don Carlos.
Don C. Don Henrique, if I am not much mistaken,
I have in this short time made a great progress
Towards your redress: I come from harbouring
The villains who have done you this affront.
Cam. [behind.] It imports to be attentive now.
Don H. O, you revive me! May I but once enjoy
The pleasure of my revenge, though the next
Moment were the last period of my life,
I should depart contented. Are the villains
Within our reach?
Don C. Be patient, sir, and I'll inform you fully.
You were no sooner up, but I pursu'd
Your flying enemies, hoping the night,
Grown somewhat lighter, might help me to discover
The place of their retreat. One of their party
Who was behind the rest, mistaking me
For one of his camerades, bad me come on,
Saying his master was but just before;
That he had borne his mistress bravely off,
And put her champion brother out of combat.
Don H. Insolent rascal! [He stamps.
Don C. We had not pass'd above a street or two,
Before he stopp'd, and at the second house
Beyond the church, in Saint Iago's Street,
He enter'd and desired me to follow him.
I making a stand, he grew suspicious,
And from my silence guessing his mistake,
He slipp'd into the house, and lock'd the door.
When I had well observ'd the street and house,
I came with speed to give you this account.
Flo. O madam, this is Don Octavio's house:
Without all doubt, they've carri'd Porcia thither.
[To Camilla behind the door.
Cam. Peace, Flora, and listen to the sequel.
Don H. Come, cousin, we lose time—Heigh! who waits there?
I will besiege the house; if they refuse
To render, I'll reduce that theatre
Of my shame to ashes, and make their fort
Both theirs and its own sepulchre. There are
Such charms in vengeance, that I do not wonder
It is reserv'd for him who form'd the thunder.
Don C. Have patience, cousin, and consult your reason;
'Twill soon convince you how unpracticable
And vain your proposition is t' attempt,
At this time of night, a house so guarded
In a well-govern'd city: that would prove
Very like thunder, which the cloud destroys,
Wherein 'twas form'd, producing only noise.
What can the issue be, but to alarm
The town, expose your person and your fortune
To th' rigour of the law, publish your shame,
And frustrate your revenge for ever?
Don H. What! would you have me tarry till these villains,
Who have invaded my house, affronted
My person, murder'd my servant, and robb'd
Me of a sister, may evade my vengeance? [Spoken hastily.
Don C. No, fear not that; let me alone to find
A certain way to hinder their escape.
I'll instantly to the corregidor,
And beg the assistance of his authority
To secure these criminals for the present,
That afterwards the law may punish them.
Don H. A fine proposal! Why, cousin, can you think
That I'll submit a personal injury
To th' tame decision of the formal law?
And, having been affronted by the sword,
To pray the aid of the long robe, and take
An advocate for second? Reliev'd by law!
Don C. Since we all parties are in making laws,
We must not judges be in our own cause:
We hold it infamous to break our words,
Yet cancel the great charter with our swords.
Don H. They by their insolence the laws invade.
Don C. But you by your revenge the laws degrade.
Don H. Honour obliges me to take revenge.
Don C. Honour is justice, rightly understood:
Your idol honour's only heat of blood.
Don H. Honour's opinion, which rules all the world.
Don C. Opinion, Henrique, only governs fools;
Reason the wise and truly valiant rules.
Don H. Reason's opinion; for every one
Stamps reason on his own opinion.
Don C. Then, by your argument, when people join
In making laws, because they all opine,
Laws are reasonable, and bind us all——
Don H. Curse on your sophistry, to treat a friend
With figures, that's raging in a fever!
You may as well pretend to teach a man
To sing his part, that's stretch'd upon a rack.
No, sir, I'll sooner lose this irksome life,
Than e'er consent to publish my disgrace
Before I have reveng'd it—to assist
At the funeral of my own honour! [He stamps.
Don C. What a wild creature is a choleric man! [Aside.
'Tis far from my intent; all my design
Is only how we may conceal your shame,
Till we have got these villains in our power;
Which can be brought about by no such means,
As by demanding justice against those
Who did assault your person, and have wounded
Your servant—a very plausible pretence!
Will this content you? Trust my conduct, cousin:
Is not my interest the same with yours?
Don H. Well, since it must be so, I pray, make haste.
Don C. Doubt not my diligence; by this I'll prove
Friendship has fire and wings, as well as love.
Don H. If you could fly, you'd move with too much leisure;
Ah, tedious minutes, which revenge does measure! [Exit Carlos.
Flo. Madam, y' have heard their mischievous design?
Cam. Yes, Flora, out of question Porcia's there,
And, if they find her, she is lost for e'er.
Flo. I'll try to hinder it, though I were certain
To perish in th' attempt. I'm confident
The house at present is in such confusion,
I may run thither without being miss'd.
Cam. 'Tis well thought on; in the interim, I'll retire
To Porcia's chamber. [Exeunt from behind the door.
Enter Geraldo.
Ger. Sir, Don Antonio is just arriv'd.
Don H. Ha! what's that you say, sirrah?
Ger. That Don Antonio, sir, your brother-in-law,
Is without, walking i' th' hall, and bad me
Give you notice of it. Shall he come in?
Don H. Antonio arrived! O heavens, this circumstance
Was only wanting to complete my shame!
When he desires to see his wife, shall I
Myself inform a person of his quality
That she is run away? Where shall I find
A heart, a tongue, a voice: or breath, or face,
To utter this unparallel'd disgrace? [Spoken hastily.
O this fantastic sense of honour!
At my own tribunal stand assoil'd,[66]
Yet, fearing others' censure, am embroil'd.
Ger. What is your pleasure, sir? 'tis possible
That Don Antonio may think it long.
Don. H. Wait on him in, but at the same time tell him
You cannot find me. I will leave my house
And the discovery of my shame to fate,
And any censure rather undergo
Than be the reporter of my own disgrace;
Till first I have my honour's ransom paid
In the vile blood of this perfidious maid. [Exit Henrique.
Enter Don Antonio and Ernesto.
Don A. My friend and his fair mistress safely lodg'd,
And free from their adventure, 'tis now fit
To mind my own engagement. But, Ernesto,
What can the meaning be of this rude usage,
In suffering me to stay without thus long
Upon my first arrival? Come, let's go on
Into the other rooms.
Ern. I swear, sir, I'm amazed at this great change.
'Tis not above two hours since I found here
A numerous and well-order'd family,
In all appearance. Now I see the pages
Bolt out of the doors, then start back again
Into their holes, like rabbits in a warren!
The maids lie peeping at the garret-windows,
Like th' upper tier of ordnance in a ship;
All looks disorder'd now; nor can I guess
What may have caus'd so great an alteration.
But there I see the servant you sent in.
Enter Geraldo.
Don A. Friend, where's your master?
Ger. I cannot tell, sir.
Don A. Where is his sister?
Ger. In truth, I know not, sir; we men-servants
Have little to do in the ladies' quarters. [Exit Geraldo.
Don A. This looks but oddly. Are you sure, Ernesto,
Y' have not misguided me to a wrong house?
Ern. If you are sure, sir, that we are awake,
Then I am certain this is the same house,
Wherein this afternoon I saw and spoke with
Don Henrique and your bride: by the same token,
There was a lady with her in a veil,
And this very room is the antechamber
To her apartment.
Don A. I should be finely serv'd if, after all
This negotiation and a tedious journey,
My pains and patience should be cast away
On some such wither'd sybil for a wife,
As her own brother is asham'd to show me.
Ern. You'll soon be freed from that fear, sir.
[Ernesto goes toward the door.
Don A. How so?
Ern. Because I see her in the inner room,
Lying along upon her couch, and reading.
Her face is turn'd the other way; but yet
Her shape and clothes assure me 'tis the same.
Don A. Art certain that 'tis she?
Ern. There are not many like her.
Don A. If thou be'st sure 'tis she, I'll venture in
Without her brother's presence t' introduce me.
Ern. She's coming this way, sir.
Enter Camilla reading.
Cam. Y' have reason, Dido, and 'tis well remark'd—
[She shuts her book; and after a little pause—
The woman who suffers herself to love
Ought likewise to prepare herself to suffer.
There was great power in your charms, Æneas,
T' enthral a lady's heart at first approach,
And make such early and such deep impressions,
That nothing but her death could e'er deface.
Alas, poor Dido!—
Don A. O heavens! what's that I see?—or do I dream?
[Antonio, seeing her, starts, then stands as if amazed.
Sure, I am asleep, and 'tis a vision
Of her who's always present to my thoughts;
Who (fearing my revolt) does now appear
To prove and to confirm my constancy.
When first I saw that miracle, she seem'd
An apparition; here it must be one.
What fit of frenzy's this?
Ern. Sir, 'tis Porcia:
A lovely, living woman, and your bride.
Don A. The blessing is too mighty for my faith.
Ern. Faith! Ne'er trouble your faith in this occasion;
Approach her boldly, sir, and trust your sense.
Don A. As when we dream of some transporting pleasure,
And (finding that we dream) we fear to wake,
Lest sense should rob us of our fancy's treasure,
And our delightful vision from us take,
Bless'd apparition, so it fares with me.
That very angel now once more appears,
To whose divinity long since I rais'd
An altar in my heart, where I have offer'd
The constant sacrifice of sighs and vows.
My eyes are open, yet I dare not trust 'em!
Bliss above faith must pass for an illusion.
If such it be, O, let me sleep for ever,
Happily deceiv'd? But, celestial maid,
If this thy glorious presence real be,
O, let one word of pity raise my soul
From visionary bliss, and make me die
With real joy instead of ecstasy.
Speak, speak, my destiny; for the same breath
May warm my heart, or cool it into death.
Ern. 'Slife! he's in one of his old fits again—
Why, what d' you mean, sir? 'tis Porcia herself.
Cam. I am that maid, who to your virtue owes
Her honour then and her disquiet since;
Yet in my pain I cannot but be pleas'd
To find a passion, censur'd in our sex,
Justifi'd by so great an obligation.
'Tis true I blush, yet I must own the fire,
To which both love and gratitude conspire.
Don A. Incomparable creature! can it be
That, having suffer'd all which mighty love
Did e'er inflict, I now should be repaid
With as full joys as love could ever give?
Fortune, to make my happiness complete,
Has join'd her power, and made me find a bride
In a lost mistress: but with this allay—
Of leaving me no means my faith to prove,
Since chance anticipates the pains of love.
Cam. The servant's error has misled the master,
He takes me too for Porcia. Bless'd mistake!
Assist me now, artful dissimulation. [Aside.
But how can that consist with so much passion?
'Tis possible, the sense of my distress'd
Condition might dispose a noble heart
To take impressions then, which afterwards
Time and your second thoughts may have defac'd;
But can a constant passion be produc'd
From those ideas pity introduc'd?
Let your tongue speak your heart; for, should y' abuse me,
I shall in time discover the deceit:
You may paint fire, Antonio, but not heat.
Don A. Madam!
Cam. Hold. Be not too scrupulous, Antonio;
Let me believe it, though it be not true;
For the chief happiness poor maids receive
Is when themselves they happily deceive.
Don A. If, since those conquering eyes I first beheld,
You have not reign'd unrivall'd in my heart,
May you despise me now you are my own;
Which is to me all curses summ'd in one.
But may your servant, madam, take the boldness
To ask if you have ever thought of him?
Cam. A love, so founded in a grateful heart,
Has need of no remembrancer, Antonio;
You know yourself too well: those of your trade
Have skill to hold as well as to invade.
Don A. Fortune has lifted me to such a height
Of happiness, that it may turn my brain
When I look down upon the world.
What have I now to wish but moderation
To temper and to fix my joys?
Cam. I yield as little t' you, noble Antonio,
In happiness as affection; but still
Porcia must do as may become your bride,
And sister to Don Henrique, in whose absence
A longer conference must be excused:
Therefore I take the freedom to withdraw.
Should I have stay'd until Don Henrique came,
His presence would have marr'd my whole design.
[Aside. Exit Camilla.
Don A. Where beauty, virtue, and discretion join,
'Tis heaven, methinks, to find that treasure mine!
Enter Don Henrique.
Don H. Sure, Don Antonio, having long ere this
Found out th' infamous flight of my vile sister,
Will be retir'd to meditate revenge
Upon us both. Ah, curse! he is there still. [He sees him.
I'll slip away. But it is now too late;
He has perceiv'd me.
Don A. How, Don Henrique! avoid your friend that's come
So long a journey t' embrace you, and cast
Himself at the feet of your fair sister?
Don H. Noble Antonio, you may well imagine
The trouble I am in, that you should find
My house in such disorder, so unfit
To receive th' honour of so brave a guest.
Don A. 'Tis true, Don Henrique, I am much surpris'd
With what I find: I little did expect
Your sister Porcia should have been——
Don H. O heavens! I'm lost, he has discover'd all. [Aside.
'Tis not, Antonio, in a brother's power
To make a sister of a better paste
Than heav'n has made her.
Don A. In your case 'specially; for without doubt
Heaven never made a more accomplish'd creature.
Don H. What means the man? [Aside.
Don A. I come just now from entertaining her,
Whose wit and beauty so excel all those
Of her fair sex whom I have ever known,
That my description of her would appear
Rather detraction than a just report
Of her perfections.
Don H. Certainly he mocks me: he never could
Have chosen a worse sufferer of scorn;
But I will yet contain myself awhile,
To see how far he'll drive it. [Aside.] Say you, sir,
That you have seen and entertain'd my sister?
Don A. Yes, Don Henrique; and with such full contentment,
So rais'd above expression, that I think
The pains and care of all my former life
Rewarded with excess in the delight
Of those few minutes of her conversation.
Tis true that satisfaction was abridg'd
By her well-weigh'd severity to give me
A greater pleasure in the contemplation
Of her discreet observance of the rules
Of decency, not suffering me, though now
Her husband, any longer to enjoy
So great a happiness, you not being by.
Don H. I am confounded; but I must dissemble
My astonishment till I can unfold
The mystery. [Aside.] She might have spared that caution:
But I suppose you'll easily forgive
An error on the better side.
Don A. Sir, I have seen so much of her perfection
In that short visit, I shall sooner doubt
Our definitions in morality
Than once suppose her capable of error.
Don H. This exposition makes it more obscure,
I must get him away. [Aside.] Sir, is't not time
To wait on you to your chamber? It's late,
And I believe [that] you have need of rest.
Don A. I should accept your offer, sir, with thanks,
If I were not oblig'd, as late as 'tis,
To see a friend before I go to bed.
Don H. I'll bear you company, if you'll give me leave.
Don A. I humbly thank you, sir, but can't consent
To give you so much trouble; I'll return
Within an hour at farthest.
Don H. Whene'er you please; y' are wholly master here.
Don A. I never saw a man so discompos'd,
Whate'er the matter is. [Aside.
Ernesto, I must make a step to see
A friend near-hand; bid Sancho follow me,
And stay you in my chamber till I come.
[Exeunt Antonio and Ernesto.
Don H. Your servant, sir. [Don Henrique waits on him to the door.] This sudden sally hence
At this time of the night, newly arriv'd
From a long journey, and not to suffer me
To wait upon him, does embroil me more.
But now I will not long be in suspense;
I'll to my sister's chamber.
Enter Don Carlos, as Don Henrique is going into Porcia's chamber.
Don C. Ho! Don Henrique! come away, all's prepar'd.
Our kinsman the corregidor is ready
With a strong band of serjeants, and stays for you.
Don H. Speak softly, Don Antonio is arriv'd,
And some of his may overhear us.
Don C. That's very unlucky; but does he know
Your sister's missing?
Don H. I think not yet.
Don C. Come, let's away; we have no time to lose.
Don H. Pray, stay awhile. I labour with a doubt
Will burst me, if not clear'd before I go.
Don C. What, cousin, will you lose an opportunity
Never to be recover'd? Are you mad?
Will you permit the villains to escape,
And laugh at us for ever? Come away. [He pulls him.
Don H. Well, I must go, and let him make it out;
The worst estate of human life is doubt. [Exeunt.