_Enter_ Octavi[o], Jacinta, [Ascanio].
_Oct_.
This is the place, but why we are appointed
By _Don Jamie_ to stay here, is a depth
I cannot sound.
_Asc_.
Believ't he is too noble
To purpose any thing but for our good.
Had I assurance of a thousand lives,
And with them perpetuitie of pleasure,
And should lose all, if he prov'd only false,
Yet I durst run the hazard.
_Jac_.
'Tis our comfort,
We cannot be more wretched than we are,
And death concludes all misery.
_Oct_.