Who's there?

SERV: 'Tis signior Mosca, sir.

CORV: Let him come in.
[EXIT SERVANT.]
His master's dead: There's yet
Some good to help the bad.--
[ENTER MOSCA.]
My Mosca, welcome!
I guess your news.

MOS: I fear you cannot, sir.

CORV: Is't not his death?

MOS: Rather the contrary.

CORV: Not his recovery?

MOS: Yes, sir,

CORV: I am curs'd,
I am bewitch'd, my crosses meet to vex me.
How? how? how? how?

MOS: Why, sir, with Scoto's oil;
Corbaccio and Voltore brought of it,
Whilst I was busy in an inner room--