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.