_Trick._ Here, sir, take your glove again; the perfume's too strong for me. _Mrs Brain._ Pray take the other to it; though I should have kept it for a pawn. [Mrs BRAINSICK'S _note falls out,_ LIMB. _takes it up._ _Limb._ What have we here? [_Reads._] for Mr Woodall! _Both Women._ Hold, hold, Mr Limberham! [_They snatch it._ _Aldo._ Before George, son Limberham, you shall read it. _Wood._ By your favour, sir, but he must not. _Trick._ He'll know my hand, and I am ruined! _Mrs Brain._ Oh, my misfortune! Mr Woodall, will you suffer your secrets to be discovered! _Wood._ It belongs to one of them, that's certain.--Mr Limberham, I must desire you to restore this letter; it is from my mistress. _Trick._ The devil's in him; will he confess? _Wood._ This paper was sent me from her this morning; and I was so fond of it, that I left it in my glove: If one of the ladies had found it there, I should have been laughed at most unmercifully. _Mrs Brain._ That's well come off! _Limb._ My heart was at my mouth, for fear it had been Pug's. [_Aside._]--There 'tis again--Hold, hold; pray let me see it once more: a mistress, said you? _Aldo._ Yes, a mistress, sir. I'll be his voucher, he has a mistress, and a fair one too. _Limb._ Do you know it, father Aldo. _Aldo._ Know it! I know the match is as good as made already: old Woodall and I are all one. You, son, were sent for over on purpose; the articles for her jointure are all concluded, and a friend of mine drew them. _Limb._ Nay, if father Aldo knows it, I am satisfied. _Aldo._ But how came you by this letter, son Woodall? let me examine you. _Wood._ Came by it! (pox, he has _non-plus'd_ me!) How do you say I came by it, father Aldo? _Aldo._ Why, there's it, now. This morning I met your mistress's father, Mr you know who-- _Wood._ Mr who, sir? _Aldo._ Nay, you shall excuse me for that; but we are intimate: his name begins with some vowel or consonant, no matter which: Well, her father gave me this very numerical letter, subscribed, for Mr. Woodall. _Limb._ Before George, and so it is. _Aldo._ Carry me this letter, quoth he, to your son Woodall; 'tis from my daughter such a one, and then whispered me her name. _Wood._ Let me see; I'll read it once again. _Limb._ What, are you not acquainted with the contents of it? _Wood._ O, your true lover will read you over a letter from his mistress, a thousand times. _Trick._ Ay, two thousand, if he be in the humour. _Wood._ Two thousand! then it must be hers. [_Reads to himself._] "Away to your chamber immediately, and I'll give my fool the slip."--The fool! that may be either the keeper, or the husband; but commonly the keeper is the greater. Humh! without subscription! it must be Tricksy.--Father Aldo, pr'ythee rid me of this coxcomb.