I’ll see the end on’t though. Goes out.
Alb. Here, Antonio—imagine how I love thee,
Who make thee such a Present.
Gives him Clarina, who is dressed just as Ismena was, and Ismena in a Masquing Habit.
Ant. Clarina, can you pardon my Offence,
And bless me with that Love,
You have but justly taken from me?
Clar. You wrong me, Sir, I ne’er withdrew my Heart,
Though you, but too unkindly, did your Confidence.
Ant. Do not upbraid me; that I was so to blame,