Moro. Shame!
Renier. Why do you clutch me?
Moro. I—am a priest—and shame——
Renier. You have suspicion?
(Vittia enters unnoted.)
Of whom?—Of whom, and what?
Vittia (lightly). My lord, of women.
(Renier starts and turns.)
So does the Holy Church instill him.
Renier. You
Come softly, lady of Venice.