Don Guz. Without doubt.
Galin. Yes; and to mortify myself upon melancholy Matters, I believe I took down fifty; yes.
Don Guz. Go fetch some Lights, you drunken Sot, you.
Galin. I will, if I can find the [Feeling for the Door and running against it.] Door, that's so say——The Devil's in the Door; I think 'tis grown too little for me——Shrunk this wet Weather, I presume.
[Ex. Galin.
Don Guzman alone.
Absence, the old Remedy for Love, must e'en be mine: to stay and brave the Danger, were Presumption: Farewel Valencia, then, and farewel, Leonora. And if thou can'st, my Heart, redeem thy Liberty, secure it by a Farewel eternal to her Sex.
Re-enter Galindo with a Candle, he falls, and puts it out.
Galin. Here's light, Sir——So,——