Don H. Geraldo, fetch an iron bar to force
The door.
[Within, aloud. Don Antonio goes to both the doors, to see if they be fast.
Don A. So, 'tis now as I could wish it.
Don O. What do you mean, generous Antonio?
Don A. To kill thee now myself:—having perform'd
What my engagement did exact from me
In your defence 'gainst others, my love now
Requires its dues, as honour has had his.
There's no protection for you from my sword
But in your own, or in your frank renouncing
All claim to Porcia; she is so much mine,
That none must breathe and have the vanity
Of a pretension to her whilst I live.
Don O. I never will renounce my claims to Porcia,
But still assert them by all noble ways:
Yet, sir, this hand shall never use a sword
(Without the last compulsion) 'gainst that man
Who has so much oblig'd me. No, Antonio,
You are securely guarded by the favours
Which you so frankly have conferr'd upon me.
Don A. Pray, sir, let not your pretended gratitude
Enervate your defence: 'tis not my custom
To serve my friends with prospects of return.
Don O. And, sir, 'tis not my custom to receive
An obligation, but with a purpose,
And within the power of my return.
Friendship, Antonio, is reciprocal.
He that will only give, and not receive,
Enslaves the person whom he would relieve.
Don A. Your rule is right; but you apply it wrong.
It was Octavio, my camerade in arms
And ancient friend, whom I design'd to serve;
Not that disloyal man who has invaded
My honour and my love. 'Tis the intent
Which forms the obligation, not th' event.
Don O. I call those pow'rs, which both discern and punish,
To witness for me that I never knew
You e'er pretended to Don Henrique's sister,
Before I came within these fatal walls:
This I declare only to clear myself
From th' imputation of disloyalty,
And to prevent the progress of your error.