_Car._ Yet one word, Madam, if you please; I have a little thing here belongs to you, a foolish bawble I once was fond of. [_Twitching her picture from his breast._] Will you accept a trifle from your servant? _Leo._ Willingly, Sir; I have a bawble too I think you have some claim to; you'll wear it for my sake. [_Breaks a bracelet from her arm, and gives it him._ _Car._ Most thankfully; this too I shou'd restore you, it once was yours----[_Giving her a table-book._] By your favour madam----there is a line or two in it, I think you did me once the honour to write with your own fair hand. Here it is. [_Reads._ _You love me, ~Carlos~, and would know The secret movements of my heart: Whether I give you mine or no, With yours, methinks, I'd never, never part._ Thus you have encouraged me, and thus you have deceived me. _San._ Very true. _Leo._ I have some faithful lines too; I think I can produce 'em, [_Pulls out a table-book; reads, and then gives it him._ _How long soe'er, to sigh in vain, My destiny may prove, My fate (in spite of your disdain) Will let me glory in your chain, And give me leave eternally to love._ There, Sir, take your poetry again. [_Throwing it at his feet._ 'Tis not much the worse for my wearing: 'twill serve again upon a fresh occasion. _Jacin._ Well done. _Car._ I believe I can return the present, Madam, with----a pocket full of your prose----There---- [_Throwing a handful of letters at her feet._ _Leo._ _Jacinta_, give me his letters. There, Sir, not to be behind-hand with you. [_Takes a handful of his letters out of a box, and throws them in his face._ _Jacin._ And there, and there, and there, Sir. [_~Jacinta~ throws the rest at him._ _San._ 'Cods my life, we want ammunition: but for a shift----There, and there, you saucy slut you. [_~Sancho~ pulls a pack of dirty cards out of his pocket, and throws 'em at her; then they close; he pulls off her headclothes, and she his wig, and then part, she running to her mistress, he to his master._ _Jacin._ I think, Madam, we have clearly the better on't. _Leo._ For a proof, I resolve to keep the field. _Jacin._ Have a care he don't rally and beat you yet though: pray walk off. _Leo._ Fear nothing. _San._ How the armies stand and gaze at one another after the battle! What think you, Sir, of shewing yourself a great general, by making an honourable retreat? _Car._ I scorn it: Oh _Leonora_! _Leonora_! A heart like mine should not be treated thus.