_My dearest father,

How shall I entreat your pardon for the rash step I have taken--how
confess the motive?_--Pish! hasn't Isaac just told me the motive?--one
would think they weren't together when they wrote.--_If I have a
spirit too resentful of ill usage, I have also a heart as easily
affected by kindness_.--So, so, here the whole matter comes out; her
resentment for Antonio's ill usage has made her sensible of Isaac's
kindness--yes, yes, it is all plain enough. Well. _I am not married
yet, though with a man who, I am convinced, adores me_.--Yes, yes, I
dare say Isaac is very fond of her. _But I shall anxiously expect your
answer, in which, should I be so fortunate as to receive your consent,
you will make completely happy your ever affectionate daughter,_
LOUISA.

My consent! to be sure she shall have it! Egad, I was never better
pleased--I have fulfilled my resolution--I knew I should. Oh, there's
nothing like obstinacy! Lewis! [_Calls_.]


_Re-enter_ SERVANT.

Let the man who brought the last letter, wait; and get me a pen and
ink below.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] I am impatient to set poor Louisa's
heart at rest. [_Calls_.]Holloa! Lewis! Sancho!


_Enter_ SERVANTS.