Man. May not I see her?
Leon. She does, by me, deny herself that honour. [As she speaks, steals a note into his hand. I shall return, I hope, with better news; In the mean time she prays, you'll not disturb The company. [_Exit _LEONORA.
Rod. This troubles me exceedingly.
Man. A note put privately into my hand By Angelina's woman? She's my creature: There's something in't; I'll read it to myself.— [Aside.
Rod. Brother, what paper's that?
Man. Some begging verses, Delivered me this morning on my wedding.
Rod. Pray, let me see them.
Man. I have many copies, Please you to entertain yourself with these. [Gives him another paper. MANUEL reads.
SIR,
My lady feigns this sickness to delude you:
Her brother hates you still; and the plot is,
That he shall marry first your sister,
And then deny you his.—
Yours, LEONORA.