Don Fel. No, he says nobody's blood shall be spilt upon this occasion, but theirs who have a title to it.
Lop. I believe he'll scarce have a law-suit upon the claim.
Don Fel. In short, he accuses thee of a shameful falshood, in pretending his sister Leonora was thy wife; and has upon it prevailed with his father, as thou has done with thine, to let the debate be ended by the sword 'twixt him and thee.
Lop. And pray, Sir, with submission, one short question if you please; what may the gentle Leonora say of this business?
Don Fel. She approves of the combat, and marries Carlos.
Lop. Why, God a-mercy.
Lor. Is it possible? Sure she's a devil, not a woman.
Lop. I——cod, Sir, the Devil and a woman both, I think.
Don Fel. Well, thou sha't have satisfaction of some of 'em. Here they all come.