have debated the Matter half so long as I have done: I'gad I think I
have put myself to a great Expence of Morality about it. I'm sure, at
least, my Stock's out. But I have a Fund of Love, I hope may last a
little longer. O, are you there, Sir!
[_Seeing ~Lop~._
_Lop._ I think so, Sir; I won't be positive in any thing.
Don _John._ Follow me: I have some Business to employ you in, you'll
like.
[_Exit Don ~John~._
_Lop._ I won't be positive in that neither. I guess what you are
going about--There's Roguery a-foot: This is at _Leonora_, who I know
hates him; nothing under a Rape will do't----He'll be hang'd----And
then, what becomes of thee, my little _Lopez_?----Why, the Honour to
a----dingle dangle by him. Which he'll have the Good-nature to be
mighty sorry for. But I may chance to be beforehand with him: If we
are not taken in the Fact, they'll perhaps do him the Honour to set a
Reward upon his Head. Which if they do, Don, I shall go near to follow
your moral Example, secure my Pardon, make my Fortune, and hang you up
for the Good of your Country.
[_Exit._
[Illustration]
+ACT+ III.
+SCENE+, _Don_ Felix's _House_.
_Enter Don ~Felix~, Don ~Pedro~, ~Leonora~, and ~Jacinta~._
Don _Fel._ How, Son! oblig'd to leave us immediately, say you?
Don _Ped._ My ill Fortune, Sir, will have it so.
_Leo._ [_Aside._] What can this be?
Don _Fel._ Pray, what's the Matter? You surprise me.
Don _Ped._ This Letter, Sir, will inform you.
Don _Fel._ [Reads.] _My dear Son, ~Bertrand~ has brought me the welcome
News of your Return, and has given me your Letter; which has in some
Sort reviv'd my Spirits in the Extremity I am in. I daily expect my
Exit from this World. 'Tis now six Years since I have seen you; I
shou'd be glad to do it once again before I die: If you will give me
that Satisfaction, you must be speedy. Heaven preserve you._
[_~To Don~ Ped._] 'Tis enough: The Occasion I'm sorry for, but since
the Ties of Blood and Gratitude oblige you, far be it from me to hinder
you. Farewel, my Son, may you have a happy Journey; and if it be
Heaven's Will, may the sight of so good a Son revive so kind a Father.
I leave you to bid your Wife adieu.
[_Exit ~Don~ Fel._
Don _Ped._ I must leave you, my lovely Bride; but 'tis with bitter
Pangs of Separation. Had I your Heart to chear me on my Way, I might
with such a Cordial run my Course: But that Support you want the Power
to give me.
_Leo._ Who tells you so?
Don _Ped._ My Eyes and Ears, and all the Pains I bear.
_Leo._ When Eyes and Ears are much indulg'd, like favourite Servants
they are apt to abuse the too much Trust their Master places in 'em.
Don _Ped._ If I'm abus'd, assist me with some fair Interpretation of
all that present Trouble and Disquiet, which is not in my Power to
overlook, nor yours to hide.
_Leo._ You might methinks have spar'd my Modesty; and without forcing
me to name your Absence, have laid my Trouble there.
Don _Ped._ No, no, my Fair Deluder, that's a Veil too thin to cover
what's so hard to hide; my Presence not my Absence is the Cause. Your
cold Reception at my first Approach, prepar'd me for the Stroke; and
'twas not long before your Mouth confirmed my Doom: Don _Guzman_, I am
yours.
_Leo._ Is't then possible the Mouth shou'd utter one Name for another?
Don _Ped._ Not at all, when it follows the Dictates of the Heart.----
_Leo._ Were it even so, what Wrong is from that Heart receiv'd, where
Duty and where Virtue are its Rulers?
Don _Ped._ Where they preside, our Honour may be safe, yet our Minds be
on the Rack.
_Leo._ This Discourse will scarce produce a Remedy; we'll end it,
therefore, if you please, and leave the rest to Time: Besides, the
Occasion of your Journey presses you.
Don _Ped._ The Occasion of my Delay presses you, I fear, much more; you
count the tedious Minutes I am with you, and are reduc'd to mind me of
my Duty, to free yourself from my Sight.
_Leo._ You urge this thing too far, and do me wrong. The Sentiments I
have for you are much more favourable than your Jealousy suffers 'em
to appear. But if my Heart has seem'd to lean another way, before you
had a Title to it, you ought not to conclude I shall suffer it to do so
long.
Don _Ped._ I know you have Virtue, Gratitude and Truth; and therefore
'tis I love you to my Ruin. Cou'd I believe you false, Contempt would
soon release me from my Chains, which yet I can't but wish to wear for
ever: therefore indulge at least your Pity to your Slave; 'tis the soft
Path in which we tread to Love. I leave behind a tortur'd Heart to move
you:
_Weigh well its Pains, think on its Passion too, }
Remember all its Torments spring from you; }
And if you cannot love, at least be true._ }
[_Exit Don ~Pedro~._
_Jacin._ Now by my troth, Madam, I'm ready to cry. He's a pretty
Fellow, and deserves better Luck.
_Leo._ I own he does: And his Behaviour wou'd engage any thing that
were unengag'd. But, alas! I want his Pity more than he does mine.
_Jacin._ You do! Now I'm of another Mind. The Moment he sees your
Picture, he's in love with you; the Moment he's in love with you, he
imbarks; and, like Lightning, in a Moment more, he's here: Where you
are pleas'd to receive him with a Don _Guzman, I am yours_. Ah----poor
Man!
_Leo._ I own, _Jacinta_, he's unfortunate, but still I say my Fate is
harder yet. The irresistible Passion I have for _Guzman_, renders Don
_Pedro_, with all his Merit, odious to me; yet I must in his favour,
make eternal War against the Strength of Inclination and the Man I love.
_Jac._ [_Aside._] Um----If I were in her Case, I cou'd find an
Expedient for all this Matter. But she makes such a Bustle with her
Virtue, I dare not propose it to her.
_Leo._ Besides, Don _Pedro_ possesses what he loves, but I must never
think on poor Don _Guzman_ more.
[_Weeping._
_Jac._ Poor Don _Guzman_, indeed! We han't said a Word of the Pickle
he's in yet. Hark! somebody knocks----at the old Rendezvous. It's he,
on my Conscience.
_Leo._ Let's be gone; I must think of him no more.
_Jac._ Yes, let's be gone; but let's know whether 'tis he or not, first.
_Leo._ No, _Jacinta_; I must not speak with him any more. [_Sighing._]
I'm married to another.
_Jac._ Married to another! Well, Married to another; why, if one were
married to twenty others, one may give a civil Gentleman an Answer.
_Leo._ Alas! what would'st thou have me to say to him?
_Jac._ Say to him! Why, one may find twenty Things to say to a Man:
Say, that 'tis true you are married to another, and that 'twould be
a--Sin to think of any Body but your Husband; and that----you are
of a timorous Nature, and afraid of being damn'd; and that a----You
wou'd not have him die neither: That a----Folks are mortal, and Things
sometimes come strangely about, and a Widow's a Widow, and----
_Leo._ Peace, Levity [_Sighing._] But see who 'tis knocks.
_Jac._ Who's there?
_Isa._ [_Behind the Scenes._] 'Tis I, _Isabella_.
_Leo._ _Isabella!_ What do you want, my Dear?
_Isa._ Your Succour, for Heaven's sake, _Leonora_. My Brother will
destroy himself.
_Leo._ Alas! it is not in my power to save him.
_Isa._ Permit him but to speak to you; that possibly may do.
_Leo._ Why have not I the Force to refuse him?
Don _Guz._ [_Behind the Scenes._] Is it you I hear, my poor lost
Mistress? Am I so happy, once more to meet you, where I so often have
been blest!
_Jac._ Courage, Madam, say a little something to him.
Don _Guz._ Not one kind Word to a distracted Lover? No Pity for a
Wretch, you have made so miserable?
_Leo._ The only Way to end that Misery, is to forget we ever thought of
Happiness!
Don _Guz._ And is that in your Power? Ah, _Leonora_, you ne'er lov'd
like me.
_Leo._ How I have lov'd, to Heaven I appeal! But Heaven does now permit
that Love no more.
Don _Guz._ Why does it then permit us Life and Thought? Are we deceiv'd
in its Omnipotence? Is it reduc'd to find its Pleasures in its
Creatures Pain?
_Leo._ In what, or where, the Joys of Heaven consist, lies deeper than
a Woman's Line can fathom; but this we know, a Wife must in her Husband
seek for hers, and, therefore, I must think of you no more.----Farewel.
[_Exit ~Leo~._
Don _Guz._ Yet hear me, cruel _Leonora_.
_Jac._ It must be another Time, then, for she's whipt off now. All the
Comfort I can give you, is, that I see she durst not trust herself any
longer in your Company. But hush, I hear a Noise, get you gone; we
shall be catch'd.
_Leo._ [_Within._] _Jacinta!_
_Jac._ I come, I come, Madam.
[_Exit ~Jac~._
_Enter ~Lopez~._
_Lop._ If I mistake not, there are a Brace of Lovers intend to take
some Pains about Madam, in her Husband's Absence. Poor Don _Pedro_!
Well; methinks a Man's in a very merry Mood, that marries a handsome
Wife: When I dispose of my Person, it shall be to an ugly one. They
take it so kindly, and are so full of Acknowledgment; watch you, wait
upon you, nurse you, humour you, are so fond, and so chaste. Or, if the
Hussy has Presumption enough to think of being otherwise, away with
her into the Mountains, fifty Leagues off; no Body opposes. If she's
mutinous, give her Discipline; every Body approves on't. Hang her, says
one, he's kinder than she deserves: Damn her, says another, why does
not he starve her? But, if she's handsome, Ah, the Brute, cries one: Ah
the _Turk_, cries t'other: Why don't she cuckold him, says this Fellow?
Why does not she poison him, says that? and away comes a Pacquet of
Epistles, to advise her to't. Ah poor Don _Pedro_! But enough: 'Tis
now Night, all's hush and still: every Body's a-bed, and what am I to
do? Why, as other trusty Domesticks, sit up to let the Thief in. But I
suppose he won't be here yet; with the help of a small Nap beforehand,
I shall be in a better Condition to perform the Duty of a Centinel,
when I go to my Post. This Corner will just fit me: Come, _Lopez_, lie
thee down, short Prayers, and to sleep.
[_He lies down._
_Enter ~Jacinta~ with a Candle in her Hand._
_Jac._ So, I have put my poor Lady to Bed, with nothing but Sobs,
Tears, Sighs, Wishes, and a Pillow to mumble, instead of a Bridegroom,
poor Heart.----I pity her; but every Body has their Afflictions, and
by the Beads of my Grandmother, I have mine. Tell me, kind Gentlemen,
if I have not something to excite you? Methinks I have a rogueish Eye,
I'm sure I have a melting Heart. I'm soft, and warm, and sound, may
it please ye. Whence comes it then, this Rascal _Lopez_, who now has
been two Hours in the Family, has not yet thought it worth his while,
to make one Motion towards me? Not that the Blockhead's Charms have
moved me, but I'm angry mine han't been able to move him. I doubt, I
must begin with the Lubber: my Reputation's at stake upon't, and I must
rouze the Drone, somehow.
_~Lopez~ rubbing his Eyes, and coming on._
_Lop._ What a damn'd Condition is that of a Valet! No sooner do I, in
comfortable Slumber, close my Eyes, but methinks my Master's upon me,
with fifty Slaps o' th' Back, for making him wait in the Street. I have
his Orders to let him in here to-night, and so I had e'en----Who's
that?----_Jacinta!_----Yes, a-caterwauling!--like enough.
_Jac._ The Fellow's there; I had best not lose the Occasion.
_Lop._ The Slut's handsome. I begin to kindle: But if my master shou'd
be at the Door----Why there let him be, till the Matter's over.
[_Aside._
_Jac._ Shall I advance?
[_Aside._
_Lop._ Shall I venture?
[_Aside._
_Jac._ How severe a Look he has!
[_Aside._
_Lop._ She seems very reserv'd.
[_Aside._
_Jac._ If he shou'd put the Negative upon me.
[_Aside._
_Lop._ She seems a Woman of great Discretion; I tremble.
[_Aside._
_Jac._ Hang it, I must venture.
[_Aside._
_Lop._ Faint Heart never won fair Lady.
[_Aside._
_Jac._ _Lopez_!
_Lop._ _Jacinta_!
_Jac._ O dear Heart! Is't you?
_Lop._ Charming _Jacinta_, fear me not.
_Jac._ O ho! he begins to talk soft----then let us take upon us again.
[_Aside._
_Lop._ Cruel _Jacinta_, whose Mouth (small as it is) has made but one
Morsel of my Heart.
_Jac._ It's well he prevents me. I was going to leap about the Rascal's
Neck.
[_Aside._
_Lop._ Barbare _Jacinta_, cast your Eyes On your poor _Lopez_, ere he
dies.
_Jac._ Poetry too! Nay then I have done his Business.
[_Aside._
_Lop._ Feel how I burn with hot desire, Ah! pity me, and quench my
Fire. Deaf, my fair Tyrant, deaf to my Woes! Nay, then, Barbarian, in
it goes.
[_Drawing a Knife._
_Jac._ Why, how now, Jack Sauce? why, how now, Presumption? What
Encouragement have I given you, Jack-a-lent, to attack me with your
Tenders? I cou'd tear your Eyes out, Sirrah, for thinking I'm such a
one. What Indecency have you seen in my Behaviour, Impudence, that you
shou'd think me for your beastly Turn, you Goat, you?
_Lop._ Patience, my much offended Goddess, 'tis honourably I wou'd
share your Bed.
_Jac._ Peace, I say--Mr. _Liquorish_. I, for whom the most successful
Cavaliers employ their Sighs in vain, shall I look down upon a crawling
Worm? Pha--See that Crop Ear there, that Vermin that wants to eat at a
Table, would set his Master's Mouth a-watering.
_Lop._ May I presume to make an humble Meal upon what savoury Remnants
he may leave?
_Jac._ No.
_Lop._ 'Tis hard! 'tis wondrous hard!
_Jac._ Leave me.
_Lop._ 'Tis pitiful, 'tis wondrous pitiful!
_Jac._ Begone, I say. Thus, Ladies 'tis, perhaps, sometimes with you;
With Scorn you fly the Thing, which you pursue.
[_Exit ~Jac~._
_Lop._ [_Solus._] 'Tis very well, Mrs. Flipflap, 'tis very well;
but do you hear----Tawdry, you are not so alluring as you think you
are----Comb-brush, nor I so much in love----your Maidenhead may chance
to grow mouldy with your Airs--the Pox be your Bedfellow; there's that
for you. Come, let's think no more on't. Sailors must meet with Storms;
my Master's going to Sea, too. He may chance to fare no better with the
Lady, than I have done with her _Abigail_: There may be foul Weather
there, too. I reckon, at present, he may be lying by under a Mizen,
at the Street-Door; I think it rains too, for his Comfort. What if I
shou'd leave him there an Hour or two, in fresco, and try to work off
the Amour that Way? No; People will be physick'd their own Way. But,
perhaps, I might save his Life by't----yes, and have my Bones broke,
for being so officious; therefore, if you are at the Door, Don John,
walk in, and take your Fortune.
[_Opens the Door._
_Enter Don ~John~._
Don _John._ Hist! hist!
_Lop._ Hist! hist!
Don _John._ _Lopez_!
_Lop._ [_Aside._] The Devil--Tread softly.
Don _John._ Are they all asleep?
_Lop._ Dead.
Don _John._ Enough; shut the Door.
_Lop._ 'Tis done.
Don _John._ Now, begone.
_Lop._ What! Shut the Door first, and then begone! Now, methinks, I
might as well have gone first, and then shut the Door.
Don _John._ I bid you begone, you Dog, you, do you find the way.
_Lop._ [_Aside._] Stark mad, and always so when a Woman's in chace.
But, Sir, will you keep your chief Minister out of the Secrets of your
State? Pray, let me know what this Night's Work is to be.
Don _John._ No Questions, but march.
[Lop. _goes to the Door, and returns_.
_Lop._ Very well----But, Sir, shall I stay for you in the Street?
Don _John._ No, nor stir out of the House.
_Lop._ So: well, Sir, I'll do just as you have order'd me; I'll be
gone, and I'll stay; and I'll march, and I won't stir, and--just as you
say, Sir.
Don _John._ I see you are afraid, you Rascal, you.
_Lop._ Possibly.
Don _John_. Well, be it so; but you shan't leave the House, Sir;
therefore, begone to your Hogstye, and wait further Orders.
_Lop._ [_Aside._] But, first, I'll know how you intend to dispose of
yourself.
[_~Lop.~ hides behind the Door._
_Don ~John~ solus._
Don _John._ All's hush and still; and I am at the Point of being
a happy----Villain. That Thought comes uninvited----Then, like an
uninvited Guest, let it be treated: Begone, Intruder. _Leonora_'s
Charms turn Vice to Virtue, Treason into Truth; Nature, who has made
her the supreme Object of our Desires, must needs have designed her the
Regulator of our Morals. Whatever points at her, is pointed right. We
are all her due, Mankind's the Dower which Heaven has settled on her;
and he's the Villain that would rob her of her Tribute. I, therefore,
as in Duty bound, will in, and pay her mine.
_Lop._ [_Aside._] There he goes, i'faith; he seem'd as if he had a
Qualm just now; but he never goes without a Dram of Conscience-Water
about him, to set Matters right again.
Don _John._ [_Aside._] This is her Door, 'tis lock'd; but I have a
Smith about me will make her Staple fly.
[_Pulls out some Irons, and forces the Lock._
_Lop._ [_Aside._] Hark! hark! if he is not equipt for a Housebreaker,
too. Very well, he has provided two Strings to his Bow; if he 'scapes
the Rape, he may be hang'd upon the Burglary.
Don _John._ [_Aside._] There, 'tis done, so: No Watch-Light burning?
[_Peeping into her Chamber._] All in darkness? So much the better,
'twill save a great deal of blushing on both Sides. Methinks I feel
myself mighty modest, I tremble too; that's not proper at this Time. Be
firm, my Courage, I have Business for thee--So--How am I now? Pretty
well. Then by your Leave, Don _Pedro_, I must supply your Neglect.
You should not have married till you were ready for Consummation;
a Maidenhead ought no more to lie upon a handsome Bride, than an
Impeachment upon an innocent Minister.
[_~Don~ John enters the Chamber._
_Lop._ [_Coming forwards._] Well done, well done; God-a-mercy, my
little _Judas_. Unfortunate Don _Pedro_! thou hast left thy Purse in
the Hands of a Robber; and while thou art galloping to pay the last
Duty to thy Father, he's at least upon the Trot to pay the first to
thy Wife. Ah the Traitor! What a _Capilotade_ of Damnation will there
be cook'd up for him! But softly: Let's lay our Ear to the Door, and
pick up some Curiosities----I hear no Noise----There's no Light; we
shall have him blunder where he should not do, by and by----commit a
Rape upon her Tea-Table, perhaps, break all her China, and then she'll
be sure to hang him. But hark--now I hear--nothing; she does not say a
Word; she sleeps curiously. How if she shou'd take it all for a Dream,
now? Or her Virtue shou'd be fallen into an Apoplexy? Where the Pox
will all this end?
_Leo._ [_Within._] _Jacinta_! _Beatrix_! _Fernandez_! Murder! Murder!
help! help! help!
_Lop._ Now the Play begins, it opens finely.
_Leo._ [_Within._] Father! _Alphonso!_ Save me, O save me!
_Lop._ Comedy or Tragedy, for a Ducat! for fear of the latter, decamp
_Lopez_.
[_Exit ~Lopez~._
+SCENE+ _changes to ~Leonora~'s Bed-Chamber; discovers ~Leonora~ in a
Gown, holding Don ~John~ by the Sleeve._
_Leo._ Whoever you are, Villain, you shan't escape me; and tho' your
Efforts have been in vain, you shan't fail to receive the Recompence of
your Attempt: Help, ho, help there! help!
[_Don ~John~ breaks from her, but can't find the Door._
Don _John._ [_Aside._] S'death, I shall be undone! Where is this damn'd
Door?
_Leo._ He'll get away: a Light there, quickly.
_Enter Don ~Guzman~ with his Sword drawn._
Don _Guz._ Where are you, fair Angel? I come to lose my Life in your
Defence.
Don _John._ [_Aside._] That's _Guzman_'s Voice? The Devil has sent him:
But we are still in the dark; I have one _Tour_ yet--Impudence, be
my Aid. Light there, ho! Where is the Villain that durst attempt the
virtuous _Leonora_.
Don _Guz._ His Life shall make her Satisfaction.
Don _John._ Or mine shall fall in his pursuit.
Don _Guz._ 'Tis by my Hands that she shall see him die.
Don _John._ My Sword shall lay him bleeding at her Feet.
_Leo._ [_Aside._] What can this mean? But here's Light at last, thank
the just bounteous Heaven.
Don _John._ Enter with the Light there; but secure the Door, lest the
Traitor 'scape my Vengeance.
_Enter Don ~Pedro~, with a Light, he finds ~Leonora~ between
them; both their Swords drawn._
_Leo._ O Heavens! what is't I see?
Don _John._ Don _Pedro_ here!
Don _Ped._ What monstrous Scene is this?
[_Aside._
Don _Guz._ What Accident has brought him here?
[_Aside._
Don _John._ How I'm intrigu'd, indeed.
[_Aside._
[_Don ~Pedro~ steps back and shuts the Door._
Don _Ped._ [_Aside._] This Mystery must unfold before we part. What
Torments has my Fate provided me? Is this the Comfort I'm to reap, to
dry my Tears, for my poor Father's death? [_To ~Leo~._] Ah _Leonora_!
_Leo._ [_Aside._] Alas! where will this end!
[_Falling into a Chair._
Don _Ped._ [_Aside._] Naked! and thus attended at the dead of Night! My
Soul is froze at what I see. Confusion sits in all their Faces, and in
large Characters I read the Ruin of my Honour and my Love.
[_To the Men._] Speak, Statues, if you yet have Power to speak, why at
this Time of Night you are found with _Leonora_?----None speak! Don
_John_, it is from you I ought to know.
Don _John._ My Silence may inform you.
Don _Ped._ Your Silence does inform me of my Shame, but I must have
some Information more; explain the whole.
Don _John._ I shall. You remember, Don _Pedro_----
Don _Ped._ Be quick.
Don _John._ You remember you charged me before you went----
Don _Ped._ I remember well; go on.
Don _John._ With the Care of your Honour.
Don _Ped._ I did; dispatch.
Don _John._ Very well; you see Don _Guzman_ in this Apartment, you see
your Wife naked, and you see me, my Sword in my Hand;--that's all.
Don _Ped._ [_Drawing upon Don ~Guz~._] 'Tis here, then, I am to revenge
my Wrongs.
Don _Guz._ Hold.
Don _Ped._ Villain, defend thyself.
_Leo._ O Heaven!
Don _Guz._ Yet hear me.
Don _Ped._ What canst thou say?
Don _Guz._ The Truth, as holy Heaven itself is Truth! I heard the
Shrieks and Cries of _Leonora_; what the Occasion was I knew not;
but she repeated them with so much Vehemence, I found, whatever her
Distress might be, her Succour must be sudden; so leapt the Wall that
parts our Houses, and flew to her Assistance. Don _John_ can, if he
please, inform you more.
Don _Ped._ [_Aside._] Mankind's a Villain, and this may be true; yet
'tis too monstrous for a quick Conception. I shou'd be cautious how
I wrong Don _John_. Sure 'tis not right to balance. I yet have but
their Words against their Words; I know Don _John_ for my Friend, and
_Guzman_ for my Rival. What can be clearer? Yet hold! If _Leonora_'s
innocent, she may untangle all. Madam, I shou'd be glad to know (if I
have so much Interest left) which Way your Evidence will point my Sword.
_Leo._ My Lord, I'm in the same Perplexity with you: All I can say
is this; one of them came to force me, t'other to save me: but the
Night confounding the Villainy of the Guilty with the Generosity of
the Innocent, I still am ignorant to which I owe my Gratitude, or my
Resentment.
Don _Guz._ But, Madam, did you not hear me cry, I came to help you?
_Leo._ I own it.
Don _John._ And did you not hear me threaten to destroy the Author of
your Fears?
_Leo._ I can't deny it.
Don _Guz._ What can there be more to clear me?
Don _John._ Or me?
Don _Ped._ Yet one's a Villain still.
[_Aside._] My Confusion but increases; yet why confus'd? It is, it must
be _Guzman_. But how came Don _John_ here? Right. _Guzman_ has said how
he came to her Aid, but _Alvarada_ cou'd not enter but by Treason.
Then perish----
Don _Guz._. Who?
Don _John._ Who?
Don _Ped._ Just Gods, instruct me who!
_Don. ~Felix~ knocks._
Don _Fel._ [_Within._] Let me in, open the Door.
_Leo._ 'Tis my Father.
Don _Ped._ No Matter; keep the Door fast. [_Aside._] I'll have this
Matter go no further, till I can reach the Depth on't. Don _Guzman_,
leave the House; I must suspend my Vengeance for a Time.
Don _Guz._ I obey you; but I'll lose my Life, or shew my Innocence.
[_Exit Don ~Guz~._
Don _Fel._ [_Within._] Open the Door; why am I kept out?
Don _Ped._ Don _John_, follow me by this back Way. And you, _Leonora_,
retire.
[_Exit ~Leonora~._
Don _John._ [_Aside, following Don ~Ped~._] If Don _Guzman_'s Throat
were cut, would not this Bustle end?--Yes----Why then, if his Throat be
not cut, may this Bustle end me!
[Illustration]
+ACT+ IV.
+SCENE+, _Don_ Guzman's _House_.
_Enter Don ~Guzman~, and ~Galindo~._
Don _Guz._ _Galindo!_
[_Musing._
_Gal._ Sir.
Don _Guz._ Try if you can see _Jacinta_, let her privately know I wou'd
fain speak with her.
_Gal._ It shall be done, Sir.
[_Exit. ~Gal~._
_Don ~Guzman~ solus._