Sir Jeal. Certainly that Rogue had a Message from some body or other; but being baulk'd by my coming, popt that Sham upon me. Come along, ye Sots, let's see if we can find the Dog again. Patch, lock her up; D'ye hear?
(Exit with Servants.
Patch. Yes, Sir—ay, walk till your Heels ake, you'll find no Body, I promise you.
Isab. Who cou'd that Scout be, which he talks of?
Patch. Nay, I can't imagine, without it was Whisper.
Isab. Well, dear Patch, let's employ all our Thoughts how to escape this horrid Don Diego, my very Heart sinks at his Terrible Name.
Patch. Fear not, Madam, Don Carlo shall be the Man, or I'll lose the Reputation of Contriving, and then what's a Chambermaid good for?
Isab. Say'st thou so, my Girl: Then—
Let Dad be Jealous, multiply his Cares,
While Love instructs me to avoid the Snares;
I'll, spight of all his Spanish Caution, show
How much for Love a British Maid can do.
(Exit.