Rod.  Let my best goods and jewels be embarked With secrecy:  We’ll put to sea this night.  Have you yet found my sister, or her woman?

Serv.  Neither, sir; but in all probability She is with Manuel.

Rod.  Would God the meanest man in Alicant
Had Angelina, rather than Don Manuel! 
I never can forgive, much less forget,
How he (the younger soldier) was preferred
To that command of horse, which was my due.

Serv.  And, after that, by force disseized you of Your quarters—­

Rod.  Should I meet him seven years hence
At the altar, I would kill him there:—­I had
Forgot to tell you, the design we had,
To carry Julia by force away,
Will now be needless:  she’ll come to the rock
To see me; you, unseen, shall stand behind,
And carry her into the vessel.

Serv.  Shall I not help you to dispatch Don Manuel?

Rod.  I neither doubt my valour nor my fortune: 
But if I die, revenge me:  Presently
About your business; I must to the rock,
For fear I come too late. [Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.—­Through a rock is discovered a navy of
ships riding at a distance.

Enter AMIDEO.

Amid.  Thus far, unseen by Manuel, I have traced him;
He can be gone no farther than the walk
Behind the rock:  I’ll back, and tell my master.

Enter HIPPOLITO at the other end.

Hip.  This is the place, where Roderick must expect His Julia:—­How!  Amideo here!

Amid.  Hippolito!

Hip.  This were so fit a time
For my revenge, had I the courage, now! 
My heart swells at him, and my breath grows short;
But whether fear or anger choaks it up,
I cannot tell.

Amid.  He looks so ghastfully,
Would I were past him; yet I fear to try it,
Because my mind misgives me he will stop me. 
By your leave, Hippolito.

Hip.  Whither so fast?

Amid.  You’ll not presume to hinder my lord’s business?  He shall know it.

Hip.  I’ll make you sure, before,
For telling any tales:  Do you remember,
Since you defended Angelina’s beauty
Against Honoria’s; nay, and would maintain it.

Amid.  And so I will do still; (I must feign courage, There is no other way.) [Aside.

Hip.  I’ll so revenge That injury! (if my heart fails me not.)

Amid.  Come, confess truly, for, I know, it fails you.  What would you give to avoid fighting now?

Hip.  No, ’tis your heart that fails.

Amid.  I scorn the danger;
Yet, what compassion on your youth might do,
I cannot tell; and, therefore, do not work
Upon my pity; for I feel already
My stout heart melts.

Hip.  Oh!  Are you thereabout?  Now I am sure you fear; and you shall fight.