SCENE II.

_Another place in the neighbourhood of Madrid._

_Enter_ LOUIS _and_ DIEGO.

LOUIS. O Diego, I am lost, I am mad! DIEGO. So we are all. LOUIS. ’Tis not with wine; I'm drunk with too much horror, Inflam’d with rage, to see us two made bawds To Roderigo’s lust: did not the old man Name De Cortes, Pedro de Cortes? DIEGO. Sure he did. LOUIS. O Diego, as thou lov’st me, nay, on the forfeit Of thine own life or mine, seal up thy lips, Let ’em not name De Cortes! stay, stay, stay; Roderigo has into his father’s house A passage through a garden—— DIEGO. Yes, my lord. LOUIS. Thither I must, find Roderigo out, And check him, check him home: if he but dare— No more!—Diego, along! my soul does fight A thousand battles blacker than this night. [_Exeunt._