If it should make you uneasy,
I would burn it--speak if it does--but you may see, the
superscription is like a woman's hand.
FOIB. By heaven! Mrs. Marwood's, I know it,--my heart aches--get
it from her! [To him.]
WAIT. A woman's hand? No madam, that's no woman's hand: I see
that already. That's somebody whose throat must be cut.
LADY. Nay, Sir Rowland, since you give me a proof of your passion
by your jealousy, I promise you I'll make a return by a frank
communication. You shall see it--we'll open it together. Look you
here. [Reads.] MADAM, THOUGH UNKNOWN TO YOU (look you there, 'tis
from nobody that I know.) I HAVE THAT HONOUR FOR YOUR CHARACTER,
THAT I THINK MYSELF OBLIGED TO LET YOU KNOW YOU ARE ABUSED. HE WHO
PRETENDS TO BE SIR ROWLAND IS A CHEAT AND A RASCAL. O heavens!
what's this?
FOIB. Unfortunate; all's ruined.
WAIT. How, how, let me see, let me see. [Reading.] A RASCAL, AND
DISGUISED AND SUBORNED FOR THAT IMPOSTURE--O villainy! O villainy!--
BY THE CONTRIVANCE OF -
LADY.
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