Por. Ah, cruel brother! ah, my dear Octavio!
How am I tortur'd betwixt love and hate!
Don A. W' had better suffer than deserve our fate.
[Exit Don Antonio and Porcia.
San. 'Tis no small compliment my master makes
Your lady and her gallant, at this time
O' th' night to quit his brother-in-law's, and leave
So fair a bride as Porcia all alone.
Flo. What, is his mistress's name Porcia too?
San. Yes; and if she has as fair a handmaid
As yourself, I shall soon forget my damsels
In the Low Countries.
Flo. If your Low-Country damsels resemble us,
You would not be put to't to forget first.
But I believe that you are safe enough:
I have not heard such praises of their wit,
But that we may suppose they have good memories.
Enter Diego.
Diego. Is not my master yet return'd?
Flo. No.