this mean. There must be some trick in it; this was certainly design'd
for my Daughter, but I don't know that she can speak any Language but
her Mother-Tongue. No matter for that, this may be one of Love's
Hieroglyphicks, and I fancy I saw _Patch_'s Tail sweep by. That Wench
may be a Slut, and instead of guarding my Honour, betray it; I'll find
it out I'm resolv'd; who's there? What Answer did you bring from the
Gentlemen I sent you to invite?

_Serv._ That they'd all wait of you, Sir, as I told you before, but I
suppose you forget, Sir.

Sir _Jeal._ Did I so, Sir, but I shan't forget to break your Head, if
any of 'em come, Sir.

_Serv._ Come, Sir, why did not you send me to desire their Company, Sir?

Sir _Jeal._ But I send you now to desire their Absence; say I have
something extraordinary fallen out, which calls me abroad, contrary to
Expectation, and ask their Pardon, and d'ye hear, send the Butler to me.

_Serv._ Yes, Sir.
[_Exit._

_Enter _Butler_._

Sir _Jeal._ If this Paper has a Meaning I'll find it. Lay the Cloath in
my Daughter's Chamber, and bid the Cook send Supper thither presently.

_Butl._ Yes, Sir,--hey day, what's the Matter now?
[_Exit._

Sir _Jeal._ He wants the Eyes of _Argus_, that has a young handsome
Daughter in this Town, but my Comfort is, I shall not be troubl'd long
with her. He that pretends to rule a Girl once in her Teens, had better
be at Sea in a Storm, and would be in less Danger.
_For let him do, or Counsel all he can,_
_She thinks and dreams of nothing else but Man._
[_Exit._

SCENE _Isabinda_'s Chamber, _Isabinda_ and _Patch_.

_Isab._ Are you sure, no Body saw you speak to _Whisper?_

_Patch._ Yes, very sure Madam, but I heard Sir _Jealous_ coming down
Stairs, so I clap'd this Letter into my Pocket.
(_Feels for the Letter._

_Isab._ A Letter! give it me quickly.

_Patch._ Bless me! what's become on't--I'm sure I put it--
(_Searching still._

_Isab._ Is it possible, thou could'st be so Careless--Oh! I'm undone for
ever if it be lost.

_Patch._ I must have drop'd it upon the Stairs. But why are you so much
alarm'd, if the worst happens no body can read it, Madam, nor find out
whom it was design'd for.

_Isab._ If it falls into my Father's Hands the very Figure of a Letter
will produce ill Consequences. Run and look for it upon the Stairs this
Moment.

_Patch._ Nay, I'm sure it can be no where else.-- (_As she's going out
of the