Isaac. Yes; and that Antonio was to come to her there.
Don Ferd. Is this the truth?
Isaac. It is indeed; and all I know, as I hope for life!
Don Ferd. Well, coward, take your life; 'tis that false, dishonourable Antonio, who shall feel my vengeance.
Isaac. Ay, ay, kill him; cut his throat, and welcome.
Don Ferd. But, for Clara! infamy on her! she is not worth my resentment.
Isaac. No more she is, my dear brother-in-law. I'faith I would not be angry about her; she is not worth it, indeed.
Don Ferd. 'Tis false! she is worth the enmity of princes!
Isaac. True, true, so she is; and I pity you exceedingly for having lost her.
Don Ferd. 'Sdeath, you rascal! how durst you talk of pitying me?