Our fatal mischief.
Con.Give me the despatch:
I’ll shew it him, sirs, else he might not believe me:
But if I take it ...
Ph. (to Hu.). What, sir, shall I do?
Ros. Humour her fancy, I will lead her out.
Hu. Ferdinand, give it to her. Alas, alas!
Con. (taking). I thank thee, sir. (To Man.) Now, father, here’s a matter
To make us laugh within.
[Exeunt Rosso, Constance, and Manuel.