Enter Floriana and Oniate.
Of your delight. Look here, my lord! She's yours.
San. No halter now nor tree convenient? O!
A steeple would be precious for my purpose!
But Oniate's there. I'll fight with him,
Be kill'd and be redeem'd. Sir, you receiv'd
A challenge from me! but return'd no answer.
Oni. My lord, I had other business; you'll excuse me.
San. What satisfaction do men give when challeng'd?
Oni. According to their spirit: if they be
Regardless of their fame, then they submit;
If not, they fight.
San. What, sir, will you then do?
Oni. Let me consider. Neither.
San. Come, you shall fight.
Oni. My lord, I will not.