_Re-enter_ SERVANT, _with another letter_.
_Ser_. Sir, here's a man below, who says he brought this from my young
lady, Donna Louisa. [_Exit_.]
_Don Jer_. How! yes, it's my daughter's hand, indeed! Lord, there was
no occasion for them both to write; well, let's see what she says--
[_Reads_.]
_My dearest father,
How shall I entreat your pardon for the rash step I have taken--how
confess the motive?_--Pish! hasn't Isaac just told me the motive?--one
would think they weren't together when they wrote.--_If I have a
spirit too resentful of ill usage, I have also a heart as easily
affected by kindness_.--So, so, here the whole matter comes out; her
resentment for Antonio's ill usage has made her sensible of Isaac's
kindness--yes, yes, it is all plain enough. Well. _I am not married
yet, though with a man who, I am convinced, adores me_.--Yes, yes, I
dare say Isaac is very fond of her. _But I shall anxiously expect your
answer, in which, should I be so fortunate as to receive your consent,
you will make completely happy your ever affectionate daughter,_
LOUISA.
My consent! to be sure she shall have it! Egad, I was never better
pleased--I have fulfilled my resolution--I knew I should. Oh, there's
nothing like obstinacy! Lewis! [_Calls_.
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