San. If less will do, he'll tell you.
Jacin. Why, you are not mad, Sir, are you? Jealous of him! Pray which way may this have got into your head? I took you for a man of sense before——Is this your doings, dog?
[To Sancho.
San. No, forsooth Pert, I'm not much given to suspicion, as you can tell, Mrs. Forward——if I were, I might find more cause I guess, than your Mistress has given our Master here. But I have so many pretty thoughts of my own person, hussy, more than I have of yours, that I stand in dread of no man.
Jacin. That's the way to prosper; however, so far I'll confess the truth to thee; at least if that don't do, nothing else will. Men are mighty simple in love-matters, Sir: when you suspect woman's a falling off, you fall a plaguing her to bring her on again, attack her with reason and a sour face: udslife, Sir, attack her with a fiddle, double your good humour——give her a ball——powder your perriwig at her——let her cheat you at cards a little, and I'll warrant all's right again. But to come upon a poor woman with the gloomy face of jealousy, before she gives the least occasion for't, is to set a complaisant rival in too favourable a light. Sir, Sir, I must tell you, I have seen those have ow'd their success to nothing else.
Car. Say no more; I have been to blame, but there shall be no more on't.
Jac. I should punish you but justly however for what's past, if I carried back what I have brought you; but I'm good-natur'd, so here 'tis; open it, and see how wrong you tim'd your jealousy.
Car. [Reads.] If you love me with that tenderness you have made me long believe you do, this letter will be welcome; 'tis to tell you, you have leave to plead a daughter's weakness to a father's indulgence: and if you prevail with him to lay his commands upon me, you shall be as happy as my obedience to them can make you. Leonora.
Then I shall be what man was never yet [Kissing the Letter.] Ten thousand blessings on thee for thy news, I could adore thee as a Deity.
[Embracing Jacin.