Marin. Dark deeds have ever witnesses at hand.
This hated house of Castelvin—
Roselo. Thy chicken's heart doth fail thee, then, Marin.
Marin. Bah! would that all Castelvin's brood were here,
And each with temper'd blade unsheathed!
I, with my cloak and rapier keen,
Would single-handed show
What deeds mine own good arm
Could compass at a stretch.
But to be trapp'd behind the closed doors
Seems but at best a currish misadventure.
Anselmo. If, then, thy fancy leads thee on
To look upon this wedding rout,
And join Castelvin and his merry guests,
Go, don thy mask, and enter boldly in,
As one who claims Castelvin blood or kin.
Roselo. Some risk of question—
Anselmo. Nay, nay! who'll seek to question thee,
Or care to know thy business there.
Roselo. Come, then, Anselmo! let us in.
I'd look upon these merry maids.
Anselmo. And find a paradise of fair women,
Where danger lurks for heart and life
I' the liquid motion of a lady's eye.
Thy father leader of the Montes is,
And will not brook within his walls
The name Castelvin or his kin,
Or he doth rage as one with crazéd tongue.
Antonio, in whose house this revel rings,
Is, as thou know'st, chief of Castelvin's band,
And a deep hater of the house of Montes.
Roselo. And yet is heaven passing just, to give
