Eger. Most solemnly, sir.
Sir Per. Enough.—I am satisfied,—You make me young again.—Your prudence has brought tears of joy fra my very vitals.—I was afraid you were fascinated with the charms of a crack.—Do you ken this hand?
Eger. Mighty well, sir.
Sir Per. And you, madam.
Lady Mac. As well as I do my own, sir.—It is Constantia's.
Sir Per. It is so; and a better evidence it is than any that can be given by the human tongue. Here is a warm, rapturous, lascivious letter under the hypocritical syren's ain hand—her ain hand, sir.
Eger. Pray, sir, let us hear it.
Sir Per. Ay, ay;—here—take and read it yourself.—Eloisa never writ a warmer nor a ranker to her Abelard—but judge yourselves.
Eger. [Reads.] 'I have only time to tell you, that the family came down sooner than I expected, and that I cannot bless my eyes with the sight of you till the evening.—The notes, and jewels, which the bearer of this will deliver to you, were presented to me, since I saw you, by the son of my benefactor'—
Sir Per. [Interrupts him by his remarks.] Now mark.