+Don H.+ As well pleas'd as I am to find my honour Less desperate than I thought, I cannot rest Till I have drawn from Porcia a confession Of the whole truth before she goes to bed. She's in her chamber now, unless by new Enchantments carried thence. _As he is going towards +Porcia's+ chamber, enter +Don Carlos+ in haste._ +Don O.+ I can't imagine what should make Don Henrique Quit the corregidor's till we return'd: One of his servants tells me he's come home. O, here he is, Now shall I raise a storm Which (if we do not take a special care) Will scarce b' allay'd without a shower of blood; Yet I must venture't, since it so imports Our friendship and the honour of our house. [_Aside._ Happiness is such a stranger to mankind [_Addressing to +Don Henrique+._ That, like to forc'd motion, it is ever strongest At the first setting out; then languishing With time, grows weary of our company: But to misfortunes we so subject are, That, like to natural motion, they acquire More force in their progression. +Don H.+ What means this philosophical preamble? +Don C.+ You'll know too soon, I fear. +Don H.+ Don Carlos, I am so well recover'd From all m' inquietudes, that for the future I dare defy the malice of my stars To cause a new relapse into distemper. +Don C.+ Cousin, I'm much surpris'd with this great change: But since y' are such a master of your passions, I'll spare my ethics, and proceed to give you In short the narrative of our success. Our worthy kinsman the corregidor, Forward to serve you in th' affair I mention'd, Was pleas'd to go along with me in person With a strong band of sergeants to the place Where I, attended by your servants, led him. Cousin, 'twas there;--it wounds my heart to speak it, And I conjure you summon all your patience-- 'Twas there I found---- +Don H.+ Whom, cousin, did you find? for since I'm sure You found no Porcia there, my concernments In your discoveries are not very likely To discompose me. +Don C.+ I would to heaven we had not found her there! +Don H.+ What's that you say, Don Carlos? My sister there? +Don C.+ Yes, sir, your sister. +Don H.+ My sister? that's good, i' faith; ha, ha, ha! +Don C.+ Why do you laugh! Is the dishonour of Our family becoming a laughing matter? This is a worse extreme, methinks, than t'other. +Don H.+ How can I choose but laugh, to see you dream? Awake, for heaven's sake, and recall your senses. Porcia there, said you? +Don C.+ Yes, sir, Porcia, I say; your sister Porcia; And, which is more, 'twas in Octavio's house. +Don H.+ Why, sure, y' are not in earnest, cousin? +Don C.+ As sure as y' are alive, I found her there.