Dor. The very Joy to find her Son again, will get my Pardon too: and then perhaps Pedro and I may renew our old Amours.
Alon. Sir, I have another Request to make.
Amb. You must command, Sir.
Alon. That is, that you will permit this fair Company to honour me this Evening at my Father-in-law’s, Don Carlo.
Amb. How, has Don Carlo married the Lady Octavia?
Alon. No, Sir, but a worse matter than that, I am to marry his Daughter.
Amb. Oh, Sir, Euphemia has too much Beauty and Virtue to make you doubt your Happiness.
Alon. Well, Sir, I must venture that. But your Company I’ll expect, the Ladies may clap on their Vizards, and make a masquerading Night on’t: tho such Freedoms are not very usual in Spain, we that have seen the World, may absolve one another.
Amb. My Garden joins to that of Don Carlo, and that way we will wait on you, as soon as I have dispatcht a small Affair.
Alon. Your humble servant, Sir. [Goes out; Ambrosio the other way.