+Don A.+ O heavens! what is't I see? It is Octavio, My friend. +Don O.+ Not thy friend, Antonio, but 'tis Octavio, Who by thy perfidy has been betray'd To this forlorn condition; but, vile man, Thou now shalt pay thy treachery with thy life. [_+Don Octavio+ makes at +Don Antonio+._ +Don A.+ Hold, Octavio! though thy injurious error May transport thee, it shall not me, beyond The bounds of honour. Heaven knows I thought Of nothing less than what I find--Octavio In this place. +Don H.+ What pause is this, Antonio? All your fervour In the concernments of a brother-in-law Reduc'd to a tame parley with our enemy? Do all the promises you have made to me, T' assist my just revenge, conclude in this? +Don O.+ Do all the promises you have made to me, T' assist my virtuous love, conclude in this? +Don H.+ Where is your wonted bravery? Where your kindness to such a near ally? +Don O.+ Where is your former honour? where your firmness To such an ancient friend? +Don A.+ What course shall my distracted honour steer, Betwixt these equal opposite engagements? [_Aside._ +Don H.+ What, demur still? nay, then I'll right myself. [_+Don Henrique+ makes at +Don Octavio+; +Don Antonio+ turns on +Don Octavio's+ side._ +Don A.+ Who attacks Octavio must pass through me. +Don C.+ I must lay hold on this occasion. [_Aside._ Good cousin, I conjure you to restrain Your passion for awhile. There lies conceal'd Some mystery in this which, once unfolded, May reconcile this difference. +Don H.+ Sweetly propos'd, sir; an accommodation! Think'st thou my anger's like a fire of straw, Only to blaze and then expire in smoke? Think'st thou I can forget my name and nation, And barter for revenge, when honour bleeds? His life must pay this insolence, or mine. [_He makes at +Don Octavio+ again; +Don Antonio+ interposes._ +Don A.+ Mine must protect his, or else perish with him. +Don H.+ Since neither faith nor friendship can prevail, 'Tis time to try what proof you are, Antonio, Against your own near interest. Know that the man, Whom you protect against my just revenge, Has seconded his insolence to me By foul attempts upon my sister's honour, Your Porcia's, sir. If this will not inflame you---- [_+Don Antonio+ turns from +Don Octavio+ and beholds him with a stern countenance._