+Don O.+ Do all the promises you have made to me, T' assist my virtuous love, conclude in this?
+Don H.+ Where is your wonted bravery? Where your kindness to such a near ally?
+Don O.+ Where is your former honour? where your firmness To such an ancient friend?
+Don A.+ What course shall my distracted honour steer, Betwixt these equal opposite engagements? [_Aside._
+Don H.+ What, demur still? nay, then I'll right myself.
[_+Don Henrique+ makes at +Don Octavio+; +Don Antonio+ turns on +Don Octavio's+ side._
+Don A.+ Who attacks Octavio must pass through me.
+Don C.+ I must lay hold on this occasion. [_Aside._ Good cousin, I conjure you to restrain Your passion for awhile. There lies conceal'd Some mystery in this which, once unfolded, May reconcile this difference.
+Don H.+ Sweetly propos'd, sir; an accommodation! Think'st thou my anger's like a fire of straw, Only to blaze and then expire in smoke? Think'st thou I can forget my name and nation, And barter for revenge, when honour bleeds? His life must pay this insolence, or mine. [_He makes at +Don Octavio+ again; +Don Antonio+ interposes._
+Don A.+ Mine must protect his, or else perish with him.
+Don H.+ Since neither faith nor friendship can prevail, 'Tis time to try what proof you are, Antonio, Against your own near interest. Know that the man, Whom you protect against my just revenge, Has seconded his insolence to me By foul attempts upon my sister's honour, Your Porcia's, sir. If this will not inflame you----
[_+Don Antonio+ turns from +Don Octavio+ and beholds him with a stern countenance._
+Don O.+ How! I attempt your sister's honour, Henrique? [_+Don Antonio+ turns and looks sternly upon +Don Henrique+._ The parent of your black designs, the devil, Did ne'er invent a more malicious falsehood; 'Tis true that I have serv'd the virtuous Porcia With such devotion and such spotless love, That, though unworthy, yet she has been pleas'd To recompense my passion with esteem;
[_+Don Antonio+ turns and looks sternly upon +Don Octavio+._
By which she has so chain'd me to her service, That here I vow either to live her prize, Or else in death to fall love's sacrifice.
+Don A.+ O heavens! what's that I hear? Thou blessed angel, Guardian of my honour, I now implore Thy powerful assistance, to preserve That reputation which I hitherto By virtuous actions have maintain'd unblemish'd. In vain, Don Henrique, you design to change [_He pauses a little, and rubs his forehead._ My resolutions: it must ne'er be said That passion could return Antonio From the strict rules of honour. Sir, I tell you, Nothing can make me violate my first Engagement.