Antonio, you have no chance there--so you may as well secure the good
that offers itself to you.

_Don Ant_. And could you reconcile it to your conscience to supplant
your friend?

_Isaac_. Pish! Conscience has no more to do with gallantry than it has
with politics. Why, you are no honest fellow if love can't make a
rogue of you; so come--do go in and speak to her, at least.

_Don Ant_, Well, I have no objection to that.

_Isaac_. [_Opens the door_.] There--there she is--yonder by the
window--get in, do.--[_Pushes him in, and half shuts the door_.] Now,
Carlos, now I shall hamper him, I warrant! Stay, I'll peep how they go
on. Egad, he looks confoundedly posed! Now she's coaxing him. See,
Carlos, he begins to come to--ay, ay, he'll soon forget his
conscience.

_Don Car_. Look--now they are both laughing!

_Isaac_. Ay, so they are--yes, yes, they are laughing at that dear
friend he talked of--ay, poor devil, they have outwitted him.

_Don Car_, Now he's kissing her hand.

_Isaac_, Yes, yes, faith, they're agreed--he's caught, he's entangled.
My dear Carlos, we have brought it about. Oh, this little cunning
head! I'm a Machiavel--a very Machiavel!