+Don C.+ Take up the chair, and follow me. [_They take up the chair._
+Diego.+ A lovely dame they bear: 'tis true, she's something Hairy about the chin, but that, they say, 's A sign of strength. It tickles me to think How like an ass he'll look when, op'ning the shell, His worship finds within so rough a kernel. [_Exeunt._
_Scene changes to +Don Antonio's+ apartment in +Don Henrique's+ house. Enter +Don Antonio+ and +Porcia+._
+Don A.+ Madam, banish your fear: you are now safe Within these walls: be pleas'd to remain here Till I shall bring some lights, and acquaint Porcia With th' honour she'll receive in entertaining So fair a guest.
+Por.+ Who is't you say you will advertise, sir?
+Don A.+ My wife Porcia. Have but a little patience, And she'll attend you, madam. [_Exit +Antonio+._
+Por.+ Is her name Porcia too? Pray heaven send her A better fate than her distress'd name's-sake. But whither am I brought? What house is this? What with my fears and darkness of the night, I have lost all my measures: I can't guess What quarter of the town it is w' are in; For, to avoid the meeting with my brother And his revengeful train, we have been forc'd To make so many turnings, I am giddy. But, thanks to providence, I have this comfort, That now I'm in a place out of his reach.
_Enter +Don Antonio+ with two lights, and sets them on the table._
+Don A.+ Madam, my wife will suddenly attend you; Pardon, I pray, my absence for a moment. [_Exit +Antonio+._
+Por.+ Now I begin to hope my sighs and tears Have in some measure with just heaven prevail'd At length to free me. But what do I see! [_Looking about her, she starts._ Am I awake, or is it an illusion? Bless me, is not this my brother's house? this, The quarter joining to my own apartment? There is no room for doubt; and my misfortunes Are always certain and without redress. Unerring powers, arbiters of fate, Teach me my crimes, and how to expiate Your wrath! Alas! I know not what I have done To merit this continued persecution! But how came I here I brought by Octavio's friend, One on whose virtue I did so rely, That I my brother's malice durst defy. Can he betray me? sure, I'm in a dream. But if Octavio--O vile suspicion! Octavio false?--No, truth and he are one. 'Tis possible his friend may guilty be, But to what end so base a treachery? And if perfidious, how could he be his friend? I am confounded with the various forms Of my misfortunes, heighten'd still the more, The less I can their hidden cause explore. This only's evident, that I must fly Immediately this fatal place. But why Struggle I thus with fate, since, go or stay, Death seems alike to wait me every way. [_She weeps._