y business presses.

    +From within.+ Whoe'er you be, and whatsoe'er your business,
    You must have patience till to-morrow, sir.
    Don Julio went sick to bed, and I dare not
    Wake him.

    +Don P.+ Fortune takes pleasure, sure, in disappointing,
    When men are press'd with most impatience;
    But, since there is no remedy, guide, Fulvio,
    Unto the lodging y' have provided for me;
    I hope 'tis near at hand.

    +Fulv.+ Not above three doors from Don Julio's,
    There, where it makes the corner of the street.         [_Pointing._

    +Fab.+ Here I must follow, till I've harbour'd them.
                                 [_Exeunt; +Fabio+ stealing after them._

            _Scene changes to a room in the inn. Enter +Don
                  Fernando+ alone, as in his chamber._

    +Don F.+ It cannot now be long, ere Fabio come,
    And 'twere in vain to go to bed before,
    For rest, I'm sure, I should not--
                                   [_He walks about the room pensively._
    Ah, my Elvira!--Mine? thou dost infect
    My very words with falsehood, when I name thee.
    Did ever mistress make a lover pay
    So dear as I for the short bliss she gave?
    What now I suffer in exchange of that,
    May make mankind afraid of joys excessive.
    But here he comes--

                            _Enter +Fabio+._

                         Have you learn'd anything
    That's worth the knowing?                             [_To +Fabio+._

    +Fab.+ Two things I think considerable, sir:
    The one, that Julio hath found means to gain
    This night to cast your business in, without
    Admitting of Don Pedro, whose pressures
    Might have been troublesome, and urged you
    To hasty resolutions; whereas now
    You've time to take your measures. The other, sir,
    Is that Don Pedro lodges here no more,
    And consequently hath eas'd you of constraint,
    Whilst you rest here, and left the way more free
    For intercourse betwixt Don Julio and you.
    This more I must observe t' ye, that Don