Silv. My Sister innocent! how soon I do believe thee!
Franc. Yes, Sir, nor knows of that vile Message which I brought you.
Silv. What Devil set thee on to tempt me then?
Franc. The worst of Devils, hopeless, raging Love;
And you, my Lord, were the unhappy Object.
Mar. Oh sinful Woman, what was thy Design?
Cleo. What means all this? [Aside.
Franc. At least to have enjoy’d him once; which done,
Thinking that it had been the fair Cleonte,
It would have made him hate her.