Don _Ped._ I'll go and find him out immediately. Don _John._ Very well: Or hold----[_Aside._] I must hinder 'em from talking. Gossiping may discover me. Yes: let's go and find him: Or, let me see----Aye,----'twill do better. Don _Ped._ What? Don _John._ Why----That the Punishment should suit the Crime. Don _Ped._ Explain. Don _John._ Attack him by his own Laws of War--'Twas in the Night he would have had your Honour, and in the Night you ought to have his Life. Don _Ped._ His Treason cannot take the Guilt from mine. Don _John._ There is no Guilt in fair Retaliation. When 'tis a Point of Honour sounds the Quarrel, the Laws of Sword-Men must be kept, 'tis true: But if a Thief glides in to seize my Treasure, methinks I may return the Favour on my Dagger's Point, as well as with my Sword of Ceremony six Times as long. Don _Ped._ Yet still the nobler Method I wou'd choose; it better satisfies the Vengeance of a Man of Honour. Don _John._ I own it, were you sure you shou'd succeed: But the Events of Combats are uncertain. Your Enemy may 'scape you: You perhaps may only wound him; you may be parted. Believe me, _Pedro_, the Injury's too great for a Punctilio Satisfaction. Don _Ped._ Well, guide me as you please, so you direct me quickly to my Vengeance. What do you propose? Don _John._ That which is as easy, as 'tis just to execute. The Wall he passed, to attempt your Wife, let us get over to prevent his doing so any more. 'Twill let us into a private Apartment by his Garden, where every Evening in his amorous Solitudes he spends some Time alone, and where I guess his late fair Scheme was drawn. The Deed done, we can retreat the Way we enter'd; let me be your Pilot, 'tis now e'en dark, and the most proper Time. Don _Ped._ Lead on; I'll follow you. Don _John._ [_Aside._] How many Villanies I'm forc'd to act, to keep one secret! [_Exeunt._ +SCENE+, _Don. ~Guzman~'s Apartments._ _Don ~Guzman~, sitting solus._ With what Rigour does this unfaithful Woman treat me! Is't possible it can be me, who appeared to love me with so much Tenderness? How little stress is to be laid upon a Woman's Heart! Sure they're not worth those anxious Cares they give. [_Rising._] Then burst my Chains, and give me Room to search for nobler Pleasures. I feel my Heart begin to mutiny for Liberty; there is a Spirit in it yet, will struggle hard for Freedom: but Solitude's the worst of Seconds. Ho! _Sancho_, _Galindo_, who waits there? Bring some Lights.--Where are you? _Enter ~Galindo~, rubbing his Eyes, and drunk._ _Galin._ I can't well tell. Do you want me, Sir? Don _Guz._ Yes, Sir, I want you. Why am I left in the dark? What were you doing? _Gal._ Doing, Sir! I was doing----what one does when one sleeps, Sir. Don _Guz._ Have you no Light without? _Galin._ [_Yawning._] Light!----No, Sir,----I have no Light. I'm us'd to Hardship, I can sleep in the dark.