A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 15Dodsley, Robert
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 15
Dodsley, Robert
English drama
+Don C.+ Th' are useful succours, when they serve in chains:
But he who throws the bridle on their necks,
From a good cause will produce ill effects.
+Don H.+ Be th' effects what they will, I am resolv'd.
I doubt not of your kind concurrence, sir,
[_Addressing to +Don Antonio+._
In all the near concernments of a person
Allied to you as I am; but, noble brother,
It were against the laws of hospitality
And civil breeding to engage a guest
(Newly arriv'd after so long a journey)
In an occasion where there may be danger.
+Don A.+ If such be the occasion, I must then
Acquaint you freely, that I wear a sword,
Which must not be excluded from your service.
I'm sure you are too noble to employ yours
In any cause not justifi'd by honour.
+Don H.+ Though with regret, I see, sir, I must yield
To your excess of generosity,
This only I shall say to satisfy
Your just reflections, that my resentments
Are grounded on affronts of such a nature
That, as nothing but the offender's life
Can e'er repair 'em, so, as to the forms
Of taking my revenge, they can't admit
Of the least scruple.
+Don A.+ Honour's my standard, and 'tis true that I
Had rather fall, than blush for victory;
But you are such a judge of honour's laws,
That 'twere injurious to suspect your cause.
Allow me, sir, th' honour to lead the way.
[_Exeunt +Don Antonio+ and +Don Henrique+._
+Don C.+ If Porcia be there too (as I believe)
'Twill prove, I fear, a fatal tragedy;
But should she not be there, yet 'tis too much
For such a heart as mine, through ignorance
To have betray'd a gentleman, though faulty,
Into such cruel hands. I must go with them;
But so resolv'd as, in this bloody strife,
I'll salve my honour, or I'll lose my life. [_Exit._
_Scene changes to +Don Carlos's+ house. Enter
+Don Octavio+, +Diego+, and +Flora+ with a candle._
+Flo.+ O th' unluckiness! I vow t' you, sir,
I have scarce known that door e'er lock'd before.
+Don O.+ There's no remedy, Flora: I am now
At the mercy of my enemies.
+Diego.+ Having broken into another's ground,
'Tis just, i' faith, you should be put i' th' pound.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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