Don Jer. Then, when she smiles, you’ll see a little dimple in one cheek only; a beauty it is certainly, yet you shall not say which is prettiest, the cheek with the dimple, or the cheek without.

Isaac. Pretty rogue!

Don Jer. Then the roses on those cheeks are shaded with a sort of velvet down, that gives a delicacy to the glow of health.

Isaac. Pretty rogue!

Don Jer. Her skin pure dimity, yet more fair, being spangled here and there with a golden freckle.

Isaac. Charming pretty rogue! pray how is the tone of her voice?

Don Jer. Remarkably pleasing—but if you could prevail on her to sing, you would be enchanted—she is a nightingale—a Virginia nightingale! But come, come; her maid shall conduct you to her antechamber,

Isaac. Well, egad, I’ll pluck up resolution, and meet her frowns intrepidly.

Don Jer. Ay! woo her briskly—win her, and give me a proof of your address, my little Solomon.

Isaac. But hold—I expect my friend Carlos to call on me here. If he comes, will you send him to me?

Don Jer. I will. Lauretta!—[Calls.]—Come—she’ll show you to the room. What! do you droop? here’s a mournful face to make love with!


Scene II.—Donna Louisa’s Dressing-Room.

Enter Isaac and Maid.

Maid. Sir, my mistress will wait on you presently.

[Goes to the door.

Isaac. When she’s at leisure—don’t hurry her.—[Exit Maid.]—I wish I had ever practised a love-scene—I doubt I shall make a poor figure—I could’nt be more afraid if I was going before the Inquisition. So, the door opens—yes, she’s coming—the very rustling of her silk has a disdainful sound.

Enter Duenna, dressed as Donna Louisa.

Now dar’nt I look round for the soul of me—her beauty will certainly strike me dumb if I do. I wish she’d speak first.

Duen. Sir, I attend your pleasure.

Isaac. [Aside.] So! the ice is broke, and a pretty civil beginning too!—[Aloud.] Hem! madam—miss—I’m all attention.

Duen. Nay, sir, ’tis I who should listen, and you propose.

Isaac. [Aside.] Egad, this isn’t so disdainful neither—I believe I may venture to look. No—I dar’n’t—one glance of those roguish sparklers would fix me again.

Duen. You seem thoughtful, sir. Let me persuade you to sit down.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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