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The honour of the house of Altavera, Of all those chiefs, whose bread I and my sires So many years have ate without reproach, Must it be sullied now?—Diego Furnez Must take upon him, then, th' informer's office, With all its paltry baseness and concealment. To Altavera's lords, with manly freedom, My fathers spoke, and so have I. But then I did oppose this marriage which hath sunk His noble pride so low. Such information From me would be suspected; and his anger, When so excited, might, perhaps,a blow! Diego Furnez could not live disgraced, And, dying unrevenged, would die disgraced.