Chi. Curse on the drab, I think I've broke my leg.
Fab. The moon has turn'd my brains, or I have seen
That person somewhere, and that very lately—
[He pauses, scratching his head.
But, sure, I'm mad to think it can be he.
[Exeunt Don Zancho and Chichon, as turning down the next street.
Enter Don Pedro and Fulvio.
Fab. O, now I see my men. [Retiring into the porch.
Don P. This is the street, you say; which is the house?
Fulv. That fair one, over against the monastery.
Shall I go knock?