[_+Diego+ and +Flora+ go in, and the chair being set in the door, +Octavio+ goes out into the room: +Pedro+ claps to the door, and goes away._ _Enter +Don Octavio+, +Diego+, +Flora+, at another door._ +Don O.+ What! put in all alone here i' th' dark, [_Groping as in the dark._ And the door shut upon me! Diego! Flora! +Diego.+ Here am I, sir, and Mistress Flora too, Unless my sense of feeling fails me. +Don O.+ I can't conjecture where we are. I durst not So much as peep out of the chair since Flora Gave me the warning; but, where'er I am, 'Tis better far than in the sergeants' hands. +Flo.+ Though now i' th' dark, I know well where we are. I have too often walk'd the streets, Octavio, From your house hither, upon Cupid's errands, Not to know the back-door of Carlos his Apartment: 'tis there, I'm sure, w' are now. +Don O.+ Curse on thee, Flora! hadst thou lost thy wits, Not to let me know it sooner? +Diego.+ A gipsy told me by my palm, long since, A sour-fac'd damsel should be my undoing. +Flo.+ Suspend awhile your apprehensions, sir; You may escape before the candles come. The door was wont to open on this side; If not, I have another way in store. [_+Octavio+ goes to the door._ +Don O.+ Flora, I cannot make the lock go back. [_+Pedro+ unlocks it on the other side, and coming in with a candle, meets with +Octavio+, and starting back and stumbling, lets the candle fall, then running out again, double-locks the door._ +Diego.+ Nay then, i' faith, w' are fast: I heard him give The key a double turn. [_+Diego+ takes up the candle._ Here's a fair trial for your maiden breath! Flora, blow't in again; let's owe your mouth More light than yet your eyes could e'er impart. +Flo.+ Light's cast away on such an owl as you; But yet I'll try. [_+Flora+ blows the candle in._ +Diego.+ Thanks, gentle Flora, to your virgin puff; 'Tis a strong breath that can o'ercome a snuff. [_Aside._ But I had rather't had been let alone: If I must needs be kill'd, unless it were Behind my back, I'd have it i' th' dark; For I hate to be kill'd in my own presence. +Don O.+ What must we do, Flora I all my hope's in you. +Flo.+ W' have yet some room for hope. There's a back-stairs Beyond that inner chamber, which goes down Into the garden: if the door be open, As certainly it is, the way is easy. +Don O.+ Come, let's lose no time. Prythee, guide us, Flora. [_Exeunt._ _Scene changes to +Don Henrique's+ house. Enter +Don Henrique+._