Man. Quick, quick! (They hide.)
Enter Donna Leonor, Juan Baptista, Judge, Alguazils, etc.
Bapt. Here, madam, till the scorching sun be sunk,
Tarry awhile.
Leonor. My cousin’s grievous sickness
Calls me with all speed homeward.
Judge. And as yet
No vestige of these ruffians, whom to find
And bring to justice, madam, in your cause,
I’ll peril my own life.