Sir Sig. Hah—but where’s Signior Morigoroso? what, is he gone?—but now I think on’t, ‘tis a point of good manners to go without taking leave.
Tick. It may be so, but I wish I had my Ring again, I do not like the giving Lesson without the taking one; why this is picking a Man’s pocket, certo.
Sir Sig. Not so, Governour, for then I had had a considerable loss: Look ye here,—how—how [feeling in his Pocket.] how—[in another] how—gone? gone as I live, my Money, Governour; all the Gold Barberacho receiv’d of my Merchant to day—all gone.—
Tick. Hah—and mine—all my stock, the Money which I thought to have made a present to the Gentlewoman, Barberacho was to bring me to— [Aside.]—Undone, undone—Villains, Cutpurses—Cheats, oh, run after him.
Sir Sig. A Pox of all silent stories; Rogue, Thief—undone.—
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I. The Corso.
Enter Julio and his Page.
Jul. How, the Lady whom I followed from St. Peter’s Church, a Curtezan?