Fran. Call Camillo hither.—
You have receiv'd the rumour, how Count Lodowick
Is turn'd a pirate?
Brach. Yes.
Fran. We are now preparing to fetch him in. Behold your duchess.
We now will leave you, and expect from you
Nothing but kind entreaty.
Brach. You have charm'd me.
[Exeunt Francisco, Monticelso, and Giovanni.
Enter Isabella
You are in health, we see.
Isab. And above health,
To see my lord well.
Brach. So: I wonder much
What amorous whirlwind hurried you to Rome.
Isab. Devotion, my lord.
Brach. Devotion!
Is your soul charg'd with any grievous sin?
Isab. 'Tis burden'd with too many; and I think
The oftener that we cast our reckonings up,
Our sleep will be the sounder.
Brach. Take your chamber.