Don C. It will be better than to go about.
Por. Would he were come, I fear the rising moon
Will give us little time.
[Above in the balcony. Octavio knocks upon the hilt of his sword.
I think I hear his usual knock. Who's there?
Don O. 'Tis I.
Por. I hope y' are not alone.
Don O. No; here's Diego with me, and a friend.
Por. 'Tis well. I'll open the door presently.
Don H. Come, we are now hard by the garden-gate.
Don O. Let's to the door; sure, she's there by this time.
Be not afraid, Diego.