+Blan.+ I'll in and see her. [_Exeunt._ _Scene changes to +Don Zancho's+ house. Enter +Don Zancho+, and +Chichon+ limping._ +Don Z.+ What, not yet gone, thou lazy, trifling rascal? +Chi.+ What juster excuse, sir, for not going, Than is a broken leg? +Don Z.+ If you find not your own leg quickly, sirrah, I shall find you a wooden one. +Chi.+ Be as angry as you will, sir, I'll not go Till I have made my conditions: the true time For servants to stand upon points is, when Their masters stand upon thorns. +Don Z.+ What are they, owl's face? +Chi.+ Assurance, sir, but of free air within, With fair retreat upon an even floor; And that it shall not be in a slut's power, After having kept me in a nasty place, To empty me out at window. +Don Z.+ Prythee, Chichon, Ha' done, and miss not th' opportunity By fooling. Unless you take Francisca, Just as she comes from mass, this day is lost, And I lost with it. +Chi.+ Come, I'll hobble to her. Expect a sorry account, but yet a true one; Truth always comes by the lame messenger. [_Exeunt._ _Scene changes to a fine pleasant apartment. Enter +Don Julio+, and knocks, as at the door of his private apartment: +Fernando+ opens the door and lets him in._ +Don F.+ Y' have given me here a very pleasant prison: But what news, my Julio? Are things disposed For clearing of your doubts? My own concerns I cannot think on during your disquiet. +Don. J.+ And I come now so strangely mov'd with yours, I scarce have sense or memory of my own. A heart of adamant could not be hinder'd, I think, from liquefaction into tears, To 've seen and heard Elvira, as I have done, Upon th' occasion of my telling her That you were gone. A sense so gallant and so tender both I never saw in woman. +Don. F.+ Can that high heart descend to tenderness? +Don J.+ Not whilst (you present) noble pride upheld it; But, nature once set free from that constraint, O, how pathetic was her very silence! And the restraint of tears in her swol'n eyes, More eloquent in grief than others' torrents. If she be guilty, all her sex are devils. +Don. F.+ O, say no more; for were there room but left For self-deceit, I might be happy yet. Ah! evidence too cruel to deny me that! [_A noise without._ +Don. J.+ But what can be the noise I hear without-- In the next room? [_+Fernando+ peeps through the key-hole._ +Don F.+ 'Slife! I see Don Pedro, Elvira's father: there's no avoiding him; He'd not a' come up so, without being sure You are within.