Enter Alberto.
Lor. Well, who can help it? I cannot walk invisible.
Alb. Lorenzo, what, making Love to Isabella?
Lor. She’l serve, my Lord, for want of a better.
Isab. That’s but a coarse Complement.
Lor. ’Twill serve to disguise a Truth however. Aside to her. Ex. Isab.
Faith, I’ll tell you, Sir, ’twas such another Damsel
As this, that sav’d me five hundred Pound once upon a time;
And I have lov’d the whole Tribe of Waiting-women
The better ever since.