San. Oh Dalinda! no more Dalinda, but Dalilah the Philistine! Could you find none but me to practise on?
Carl. Sooner upon you than upon any man; for nature has put a superscription upon a fool's face, and all cheats are directed thither.
Lop. There's no recalling what's past and done.
San. You never said a truer word, father-in-law; 'tis done, indeed, to my sorrow.
Carl. If you could undo it, Sancho, it were something; but, since you cannot, your only remedy is to do it again.
San. That's true; but the memory of that damned Conde is enough to turn one's stomach to her. Do you remember what a devilish hunch back he had, when you and I played him?
Carl. For that reason you may be sure she'll loath the thought of him.
San. Do you think so, Carlos?
Dal. How can I do otherwise, when I have in my arms so handsome, so sweet, and so charming a cavalier as you?
San. Well, I am—I know not howish; she has a delicious tongue of her own, and I begin to mollify.