Char. I am immur'd to the Frowns of Fortune: But what has befal'n thee?
Patch. Sir Jealous, whose suspicious Nature's always on the Watch; nay, even whilst one Eye sleeps, the other keeps Sentinel: Upon sight of you, flew into such a violent Passion, that I cou'd find no Stratagem to appease him, but in spight of all Arguments, lock'd his Daughter into his own Apartment, and turn'd me out of Doors.
Char. Ha! oh, Isabinda.
Patch. And swears she shall neither see Sun nor Moon, till she is Don Diego Babinetto's Wife, who arrived last Night, and is expected with impatience.
Char. He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he shall; here will I plant my self, and thro' my Breast he shall make his Passage, if he enters.
Patch. A most heroick Resolution. There might be ways found out more to your Advantage. Policy is often preferr'd to open force.
Char. I apprehend you not.
Patch. What think you of personating this Spaniard, imposing upon the Father, and marrying your Mistress by his own Consent.
Char. Say'st thou so my Angel! Oh cou'd that be done, my Life to come wou'd be too short to recompence thee: But how can I do that, when I neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of Spain; who recommends him, nor how attended.
Patch. I can solve all this. He is from Madrid, his Father's Name Don Pedro Questo Portento Babinetto. Here's a Letter of his to Sir Jealous, which he drop'd one Day; you understand Spanish, and the Hand may be counterfeited: You conceive me, Sir.