Don _Fel._ Hold your tongue, you impertinent Jackanapes, I will have him fight, and fight like a fury too; If he don't, he'll be worsted, I can tell him that. For know, son, your antagonist is not the person you name, it is an enemy of twice his force. _Lop._ O dear, O dear, O dear! and will nobody keep 'em asunder? _Lor._ Nobody shall keep us asunder, if once I know the man I have to deal with. Don _Fel._ Thy man then is----_Camillo_. _Lor._ _Camillo!_ Don _Fel._ 'Tis he, he'll suffer no body to decide this quarrel but himself. _Lop._ Then there are no seconds, Sir. Don _Fel._ None. _Lop._ He's a brave man. Don _Fel._ No, he says nobody's blood shall be spilt upon this occasion, but theirs who have a title to it. _Lop._ I believe he'll scarce have a law-suit upon the claim. Don _Fel._ In short, he accuses thee of a shameful falshood, in pretending his sister _Leonora_ was thy wife; and has upon it prevailed with his father, as thou has done with thine, to let the debate be ended by the sword 'twixt him and thee. _Lop._ And pray, Sir, with submission, one short question if you please; what may the gentle _Leonora_ say of this business? Don _Fel._ She approves of the combat, and marries _Carlos_. _Lop._ Why, God a-mercy. _Lor._ Is it possible? Sure she's a devil, not a woman. _Lop._ I----cod, Sir, the Devil and a woman both, I think. Don _Fel._ Well, thou sha't have satisfaction of some of 'em. Here they all come. _Enter ~Alvarez~, ~Leonora~, ~Carlos~, ~Sancho~, and ~Jacinta~._ _Alv._ Well, Don _Felix_, have you prepared your son? for mine, he's ready to engage. _Lor._ And so is his. My wrongs prepare me for a thousand combats. My hand has hitherto been held by the regard I've had to every thing of kin to _Leonora_; but since the monstrous part she acts has driven her from my heart, I call for reparation from her family. _Alv._ You'll have it, Sir; _Camillo_ will attend you instantly. _Lop._ O lack! O lack! will no body do a little something to prevent bloodshed? Why, Madam, have you no pity, no bowels? [_To ~Leonora~._] stand and see one of your husbands stoter'd before your face? 'Tis an arrant shame. _Leo._ If widowhood be my fate, I must bear it as I can. _Lop._ Why, did you ever hear the like? _Lor._ Talk to her no more. Her monstrous impudence is no otherwise to be replied to, than by a dagger in her brother's heart. _Leo._ Yonder he's coming to receive it. But have a care, brave Sir, he does not place it in another's. _Lor._ It is not in his power. He has a rotten cause upon his sword, I'm sorry he's engag'd in't; but since he is, he must take his fate. For you, my bravo, expect me in your turn. [_To ~Carlos~._ _Car._ You'll find Camillo, Sir, will set your hand out. _Lor._ A beardless boy. You might have match'd me better, Sir: but prudence is a virtue.