Isab. Sir, you shall not;
No, though Vittoria, upon that condition,
Would become honest.


Fran. Was your husband loud
Since we departed?


Isab. By my life, sir, no,
I swear by that I do not care to lose.
Are all these ruins of my former beauty
Laid out for a whore's triumph?


Fran. Do you hear?
Look upon other women, with what patience
They suffer these slight wrongs, and with what justice
They study to requite them: take that course.


Isab. O that I were a man, or that I had power
To execute my apprehended wishes!
I would whip some with scorpions.


Fran. What! turn'd fury!