_Isa_. Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason for
it.
_Tim_. What reason, madam?
_Isa_. The most convincing in the world: He knew my cousin
Constance never loved you: He has heard her say, you were as
invincibly ignorant as a town-fop judging a new play: as shame-faced
as a great overgrown school-boy: in fine, good for nothing but to be
wormed out of your estate, and sacrificed to the god of laughter.
_Tim_. Was your cousin so barbarous to say this?
_Isa_. In his hearing.
_Tim_. And would he let me proceed in my suit to her?
_Isa_. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could
love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as
a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that
opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.
_Tim_. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair
way.
_Burr_. [_To a Boy entering_.] Sirrah, boy, deliver this
note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near.
_Boy_. I warrant you, sir.
_Burr_. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous
may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness
between her and me, it will ruin all her projects.
_Isa_. [_To the Boy_.] From whom?
_Boy_.
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