Mi. Tis the same! how fortunate!—worthy old man—
Ben. Is it you, father? why, you were out, when his excellence went this evening to—
Mi. I was at home—but the prior’s suspicions—I was a prisoner; and—but this is no time for explanation—lead me to your lord! away.
Ben. Impossible, father! all the grandees of Messina—a banquet, a ball—dont you hear the music? but doubtless tomorrow—
Mi. Tomorrow will be too late! alas! perhaps it is too late already! perhaps at this very moment Venoni is no more!
Ben. No more. Venoni? follow me, father, follow me this instant—stay, stay! as I live, here comes his excellence himself.
Enter the Viceroy and Hortensia.
Vice. Nay, dear Hortensia—how now? what would you, father?
Mi. Pardon my intrusion, noble sir, but my business will not brook delay—I am that friar whose letter this morning—
Vice. Father Michael? speak! come you from Venoni?