Jas. Your servant tells me,
Count Lodowick, that one Father Antony,
A holy man, stays without to speak with you.
Lod. With me or my lady?
Jas. Nay, with you, and about earnest business.
Lod. I'll go send up, and he shall interpret my lady's dream. Hist, Jaspro. [Exeunt.
Dor. Why, husband! my lord!
Fran. Didst mark? He must interpret.[160]
Clown. I smell wormwood and vinegar. [Aside.
Ven. She changes colour.
Dor. He will not, sure, reveal confession!
Ver. We'll rise, and to our lodgings: I think your highness
Keeps better hours in Venice?