Lor. Here’s the Door, begin and play your best,
But let them be soft low Notes, do you hear? They play.
Enter Antonio.
Ant. Musick at my Lodgings! it is Alberto;
Oh, how I love him for’t—if Clarina stand his
Courtship, I am made;
I languish between Hope and Fear.
Lor. Stay, Friend, I hear somebody. Musick ceases.
Pag. ’Tis nobody, Sir.
Enter Isabella.