_Ant._ Yes, I’ll resign my Claims, and leave the World; _Alberto_, ‘tis unkind to think I would be happy By ways must ruin you: But sure you tell me this, but only to afflict me. _Alb._ ‘Tis truth, _Antonio_, I do love _Clarina;_ And, what is yet far worse for thy repose, Believe my self so bless’d to be belov’d. _Ant._ How, to be belov’d by her! --Oh dire effects of Jealousy! _Alb._ All that you saw to day was only feign’d, To let you see, that even your Eyes and Ears Might be impos’d upon. _Ant._ Can it be possible! _Alb._ And now she thinks she is enough reveng’d; And lets you know, in her feign’d Scorn to me, That all your Sleights and Cunnings are but vain: She has deceiv’d them all, and by that Art, Gives you a Confidence, and me a Heart. _Ant._ I must confess, it is but just in her To punish thus the Errors of my Fear; I do forgive her, from my Soul I do. --But, Sir, what satisfaction’s this to you? _Alb._ _Clarina_ happy, I’ll from Court retire, And by that Absence quench my Hopeless Fire: War I will make my Mistress, who may be, Perhaps, more kind than she has been to me; Where though I cannot conquer, ‘twill allow That I may die; that’s more than this will do. _Ant._--Why did you, Sir, betray my Weakness to her? Though ‘twas but what I did deserve from you. _Alb._ By all that’s good, she knew the Plot before, From _Isabella_, who it seems o’erheard us, When you once press’d me to’t: And had we wanted Virtue, thoud’st been lost. _Ant._ I own the Crime; And first I beg thy Pardon, And after that will get it from _Clarina_; Which done, I’ll wait upon thee to the Camp, And suffer one year’s Penance for this Sin, Unless I could divert this Resolution, By a Proposal _Clarina_ bid me make you. _Alb._ What was it, Sir? _Ant._ I have a Sister, Friend, a handsome Virgin, Rich, witty, and I think she’s virtuous too; Return’d last Week from St. _Teresia’s_ Monastery. _Alb._ Sure any thing that is to thee ally’d, Must find a more than bare Respect from me; But certain ‘tis I ne’er shall love again, And have resolv’d never to marry any, Where Interest, and not Love, must join our hands. _Ant._ You cannot tell what Power there lies in Beauty; Come, you shall see her, and if after that, You find you cannot love her, We’ll both to _Candia_, where we both will prove Rivals in Honour, as we’re now in Love. --But I’ad forgot to tell thee what I came for; I must this Evening beg your Company, Nay, and perhaps your Sword: come along with me, And by the way I’ll tell you the Adventure. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Lodgings of _Curtius_. Enter _Curtius_ and _Pietro_, disguis’d as before. _Cur._ I wonder we hear no news yet of the Prince, I hope he’ll come; _Pietro_, be the Bravoes ready, And the Curtezans? _Piet._ My Lord, they’ll be here immediately, all well dress’d too.