Alb. I do believe thee, but thou art not safe,
Here, take this Poyniard, and revenge thy Wrongs,
Wrongs which I dare not beg a Pardon for. He gives her a Dagger.
Ism. Why, Sir, what have you done? have you
Deceiv’d me, and do you not indeed love me?
Alb. Oh Clarina! do not ask that Question,
Too much of that has made me ruin thee;
It made me jealous, drunk with Jealousy,
And then I did unravel all my Secrets.
Ism. What Secrets, Sir? you have then seen Antonio.