Leo. You shan't, Sir, here's one will be in earnest with you.
Lor. He's welcome: tho' I had rather have drawn my sword against another. I'm sorry, Camillo, we should meet on such bad terms as these; yet more sorry your sister should be the wicked cause on't: but since nothing will serve her but the blood either of a husband or brother, she shall be glutted with't. Draw.
Lop. Ah Lard, ah Lard, ah Lard!
Lor. And yet before I take this instrument of death into my fatal hand, hear me, Camillo; hear Alvarez; all! I imprecate the utmost powers of heaven to shower upon my head the deadliest of its wrath; I ask that all hell's torments may unite to round my soul with one eternal anguish, if wicked Leonora ben't my wife.
Omnes. O Lord, O Lord, O Lord!
Leo. Why then may all those curses pass him by, and wrap me in their everlasting pains, if ever once I had a fleeting thought of making him my husband.
Lop. O Lord, O Lord, O Lord!
Leo. Nay more; to strike him dumb at once, and shew what men with honest looks can practise, know he's married to another.
Alv. and Fel. How!
Leo. The truth of this is known to some here.