+Por.+ O Octavio, let not this moment slip To free me from my cruel brother's fury, Or never hope to see me any more Amongst the living. [_+Octavio+ leads her away by the arm._ +Don O.+ Ah, noble maid! he that is once possess'd Of such a treasure, and defends it not, Let him live wretched, and detested die. Where's my brave friend? +Don A.+ You have me by your side: lead off your mistress; I'll secure your retreat. +Diego.+ That, doubtless, is my master who, victorious, [_In the tree, pointing to those who are going off._ Is bravely marching off with his fair prize: I'll down and follow. +Don C.+ But whilst I was engag'd to succour you, [_Having helped up +Don Henrique+._ Our enemies, I fear, are got away: I heard the door open, and see none here: Although the night's much brighter than it was. I'll follow, and trace the villains, if I can, To their dens: meanwhile take care of your sister: And pray, till my return, be moderate. +Don H.+ How! moderation in this case?--what, ho! Geraldo, Pedro! Ah, ye cursed rogues! _Enter Servants with torches._ Durst ye not show your heads till they were gone? Geraldo, light me in, whilst Pedro looks To his hurt companion. Ah, Porcia, Porcia! [_Exeunt +Don Henrique+ and +Geraldo+: +Pedro+ carries out Silvio fainting with his hurts._ _Scene changes to the city of Seville. Enter +Don Octavio+, +Porcia+, +Don Antonio+, and a little after +Diego+, and after them +Don Carlos+._ +Diego.+ Sure, that's Antonio bringing up the rear? Sir, th' are but just before; my master bears her [_Looking back to +Don Carlos+._ Most gallantly away: lose not sight of me. +Don C.+ This rogue takes me for one of his own crew; He will by his mistake help me to harbour 'em. [_Exeunt._ _+Camilla+ and +Flora+ appear in the balcony. Scene changes to +Don Henrique's+ house._ +Cam.+ Was there ever such a disaster, Flora? Sure, th' are all dead, so great's the silence. Porcia! Porcia! Nobody answers. +Flo.+ Madam, let us go down into the garden. +Cam.+ Excuse me; that were to involve myself In this unlucky scandal. 'Tis possible, Affrighted with the scuffle, she's return'd Into her quarter by the other door; Let's away thither. [_They go down upon the stage._ +Flo.+ O madam! I see a light, and Don Henrique coming this way with his sword drawn; what shall we do? +Cam.+ Peace; let us hide ourselves behind the door [_They go behind the door._ Till we discover his intentions.