Isa. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.
Tim. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair way.
Burr. [To a Boy entering.] Sirrah, boy, deliver this note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near.
Boy. I warrant you, sir.
Burr. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness between her and me, it will ruin all her projects.
Isa. [To the Boy.] From whom?
Boy. From Mr Burr, madam.
Isa. [Reads.] These for Madam Isabella. Dear rogue, Sir Timorous knows nothing of our kindness, nor shall for me; seem still to have designs upon him; it will hide thy affection the better to thy servant, BURR.
Isa. Alas, poor woodcock, dost thou go a-birding? Thou hast e'en set a springe to catch thy own neck. Look you here, Sir Timorous; here's something to confirm what I have told you. [Gives him the letter.
Tim. D, e, a, r, dear; r, o, g, u, e, rogue. Pray, madam, read it; this written hand is such a damned pedantic thing, I could never away with it.