+Don O.+ Friendship's a specious name, made to deceive Those whose good-nature tempts them to believe: The traffic of good offices 'mongst friends Moves from ourselves, and in ourselves it ends: When competition brings us to the test, Then we find friendship is self-interest. +Por.+ Ye pow'rs above! what pleasure can ye take To persecute submitting innocence? +Don O.+ Retire, dear Porcia, to that inner room: For should thy cruel brother find thee here, He's so revolted from humanity, He'll mingle thine with my impurer blood. +Por.+ That were a kind of contract. Let him come, We'll meet at once marriage and martyrdom. +Don O.+ Soul of my life, retire. +Por.+ I will not leave you. +Don O.+ Thou preserv'st me by saving of thyself: For they can murder only half of me, Whilst that my better part survives in thee. +Por.+ I will die too, Octavio, to maintain That different causes form the same effects: 'Tis courage in you men, love in our sex. +Don O.+ Though souls no sexes have, when w' are above, If we can know each other, we may love. +Por.+ I'll meet you there above: here take my word. [_+Don Octavio+ takes her hand and kisses it._ This Porcia knows the way of joining souls, As well as th' other, when she swallow'd coals. [_They retire to the other room, +Porcia+ leaning on +Camilla+, and +Octavio+ waits on them to the door._ +Diego.+ Nay, if y' are good at that, the devil take The hindmost. 'Tis for your sake, fair Flora, [_Taking +Flora+ by the hand._ I shun these honourable occasions. Having no weapon, sir, 'tis fit that I March off with the baggage. [_Turning to +Don Octavio+. Exeunt +Diego+ and +Flora+._ +Don O.+ I'm now upon the frontiers of this life, There's but one step to immortality; And, since my cruel fortune has allow'd me No other witness of my tragic end But a false friend and barbarous enemy, I'll leave my genius to inform the world My life and death was uniform: as I Liv'd firm to love and honour, so I die. [_Draws his sword._ Look down, ye spirits above; for if there be A sight on earth worthy of you to see, 'Tis a brave man, pursu'd by unjust hate, Bravely contending with his adverse fate. [_Waving his sword._ Stay till this heaven-born soul puts off her earth, And she'll attend ye to her place of birth. _Enter +Don Antonio+, +Don Henrique+, +Don Carlos+, and +Pedro+, their swords drawn; +Don Antonio+ before the rest._ +Don A.+ Where is the man whose insolence and folly Has so misled him to affront my friend? +Don O.+ Here is the man thou seek'st, and he whom thou So basely hast betray'd.