Well, I'm supposed to have as much wit as my neighbours, and yet I cannot make out this master of mine. He's a perfect mystery, and the more I try to unriddle him the more he riddles me. If I am deep, he is deeper. In short, I am no match for him, and thus I prove it. In the first place, he finds out everything I would conceal, and conceals everything I would find out. Secondly, he reads all my thoughts, and takes care that I shall read none of his. Then he disappears when I turn my back, and re-appears before I turn my face. He has discovered that I am a rogue, yet retains me in his service. His chamber is always locked when he goes out, and I am obliged to wait below upon board wages. There's some mystery about that chamber. I have watched repeatedly on the staircase to see him enter, but never can; and when I would swear that he is not in, it is I only who am out; for I am summoned to his presence. There's mystery! When he does appear, who is he? Don Gaspar; but of what family, and from what part of Spain, no one can tell. Mystery upon mystery! He may be the devil, and I feel my conscience touched; for no good ever came from the devil's wages. I'll to my confessor, and seek his counsel. He's a good man, and lenient too, to such poor rogues as I. But he insists that I appear each se'nnight, and sum the catalogue of my offences: perhaps he's right; for if I staid longer away, _some_ of them--as I am no scholar,--say half--would be forgotten. [_Enter Nina veiled, who passed by him, and exit._] There's a nice girl! What a foot and ankle! Now had my master seen her, there had been a job for me to dog her home. We lacqueys are like sporting dogs; we follow up the game, and when they stop their running, make a dead point, until our masters bag them for themselves. [_Nina returns. Enter._] She's coming back. This time I'll poach a little for myself. Fair lady, can I serve you? [_Nina stops, but turns away. Antonio kneels._] "Turn not away, fair angel, for since last You bless'd my eyes, my thoughts have been on you; For weeks I've follow'd, not daring to address you. As I'm a bachelor, and free to wed, Might I your favour gain, a life of tenderness, To you, my love, I'd tender." (_Aside._) I borrow'd that speech, excepting the last flourish, from my master: but since he has used it like his cast-off clothes, 'tis mine by custom. (_Aloud._) Will you not answer? I love you, madam, have loved you long; and, by my soul! ne'er said so much before to any woman breathing. [_Nina turns round and lifts her veil, Antonio turns away._] (_Aside._) By all that's intolerable, my Toledo wife! (_Turning to her._) Holy Saint Frances! It is, it is my wife! _Nina._ Yes, sir, your injured, your deserted wife! _Ant._ And are you still alive? then I am once more happy! (_Offers to embrace her._) _Nina._ Forbear! When was I dead, you wretch?