ISABELLA
And above health, To see my lord well.
BRACHIANO
So: I wonder much What amorous whirlwind hurried you to Rome.
ISABELLA
Devotion, my lord.
BRACHIANO
Devotion! Is your soul charg'd with any grievous sin?
ISABELLA
'Tis burden'd with too many; and I think The oftener that we cast our reckonings up, Our sleep will be the sounder.