_Fil_. I have better diversion, Sir, I thank you--come, _Julio_, are you for a Walk in the Garden of _Medices Villa_, ‘tis hard by?-- _Jul_. I’ll wait on you-- [_Ex_. Fil. _and_ Julio. Sir _Sig_. How in the Garden of _Medices Villa_?--but, harkye, _Galliard_, will the Ladies be there, the Curtezans, the _Bona Roba’s_, the _Inamorata’s_, and the _Bell Ingrato’s_, hah? _Gal_. Oh, doubtless, Sir. [_Exit_. Gall. Sir _Sig_. I’ll e’en bring my Governour thither to beg his Pardon, on purpose to get an opportunity to see the fine Women; it may be I may get a sight of my new Mistress, _Donna Silvianetta_, whom _Petro_ is to bring me acquainted with. [_Exeunt_. ACT II. SCENE I. _The Gardens of the Villa Medici_. _Enter_ Morosini _and_ Octavio. _Oct_. By Heaven, I will not eat, nor sleep, nor pray for any thing but swift and sure Revenge, till I have found _Marcella_, that false deceiving Beauty, or her Lover, my hated Rival _Fillamour_; who, wanton in the Arms of the fair Fugitive, laughs at my shameful easiness, and cries, these Joys were never meant for tame _Octavio_. _Enter_ Crapine. _Mar_. How now, _Crapine_! What, no News, no News of my Nieces yet, _Marcella_ and _Cornelia_? _Crap_. None, Sir. _Oct_. That’s wondrous strange, _Rome’s_ a place of that general Intelligence, methinks thou might’st have News of such trivial things as Women, amongst the Cardinals Pages: I’ll undertake to learn the Religion _de stato_, and present juncture of all affairs in _Italy_, of a common Curtezan. _Mar_. Sirrah, Sirrah, let it be your care to examine all the Nunneries, for my own part not a Petticoat shall escape me. _Oct_. My task shall be for _Fillamour_. [_Aside_. _Mor_. I’ll only make a visit to your Sister _Donna Laura Lucretia_, and deliver her a Letter from my Nephew _Julio_, and return to you presently.-- [_Going out, is staid by_ Octavio. _Oct_. Stay, Sir, defer your visit to my Sister _Laura_, she is not yet to know of my being in Town; ‘tis therefore I have taken a Lodging in an obscure street, and am resolv’d never to be my self again till I’ve redeem’d my Honour. Come, Sir, let’s walk-- _Enter to them, as they are going out_, Marcella _and_ Cornelia, _drest like Curtezans_, Philippa, _and Attendance_. _Mor_. Stay, stay, what Women are these? _Oct_. Whores, Sir, and so ‘tis ten to one are all the kind; only these differ from the rest in this, they generously own their trade of Sin, which others deal by stealth in; they are Curtezans. [_Exeunt_. _Mar_. The Evening’s soft and calm, as happy Lovers Thoughts; And here are Groves where the kind meeting Trees Will hide us from the amorous gazing Croud.