Rod.  Pray, let me see them.

Man.  I have many copies, Please you to entertain yourself with these. [Gives him another paper.  MANUEL reads.

SIR,
My lady feigns this sickness to delude you: 
Her brother hates you still; and the plot is,
That he shall marry first your sister,
And then deny you his.—­

Yours, LEONORA.

POSTSCRIPT.

Since I writ this, I have so wrought upon her,
(Who, of herself, is timorous enough)
That she believes her brother will betray her,
Or else be forced to give her up to you;
Therefore, unknown to him, she means to fly: 
Come to the garden door at seven this evening,
And there you may surprise her; mean time, I
Will keep her ignorant of all things, that
Her fear may still increase.

Enter LEONORA again.

Rod.  How now?  How does your lady?

Leon.  So ill, she cannot possibly wait on you.

Man.  Kind heaven, give me her sickness!

Rod.  Those are wishes:  What’s to be done?

Man.  We must defer our marriages.

Rod.  Leonora, now! [Aside to her

Leon.  My lady, sir, has absolutely charged, Her brother’s should go forward.

Rod.  Absolutely!

Leon.  Expressly, sir; because, she says, there are
So many honourable persons here,
Whom to defraud of their intended mirth,
And of each others company, were rude: 
So, hoping your excuse—­[Exit LEONORA.

Rod.  That privilege of power, which brothers have
In Spain, I never used, therefore submit
My will to hers; but with much sorrow, sir,
My happiness should go before, not wait
On yours:  Lead on.

Man.  Stay, sir; though your fair sister, in respect
To this assembly, seems to be content
Your marriage should proceed, we must not want
So much good manners as to suffer it.

Rod.  So much good manners, brother?

Man.—­I have said it. 
Should we, to show our sorrow for her sickness,
Provoke our easy souls to careless mirth,
As if our drunken revels were designed
For joy of what she suffers?

Rod.  ’Twill be over In a few days.

Man.  Your stay will be the less.

Rod.  All things are now in readiness, and must not Be put off, for a peevish humour thus.

Man.  They must; or I shall think you mean not fairly.

Rod.  Explain yourself.

Man.  That you would marry first, And afterwards refuse me Angelina.

Rod.—­Think so.

Man.  You are—­

Rod.  Speak softly.

Man.  A foul villain.

Rod.  Then—­

Man.  Speak softly.