Ism. Sister, there cannot be much harm in this;
’Tis an ill chance, ’tis true, for by it we have lost
The pleasure of an innocent Revenge
Upon Antonio; but if understood,
We have but miss’d that end.
Clar. Oh Ismena!
This Jealousy is an unapprehensive madness,
A non-sense which does still abandon Reason.
Isab. Madam, early in the Morning
I’ll to Alberto’s Lodgings, and tell him the mistake.