_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.
_Isaac_. [_Aside_.] So, so; she mollifies apace--she's struck with my
figure! this attitude has had its effect.
_Duen_. Come, sir, here's a chair.
_Isaac_. Madam, the greatness of your goodness overpowers me--that a
lady so lovely should deign to turn her beauteous eyes on me so.
[_She takes his hand, he turns and sees her_.]
_Duen_. You seem surprised at my condescension.
_Isaac_. Why, yes, madam, I am a little surprised at it.--[_Aside_.]
Zounds! this can never be Louisa--she's as old as my mother!
_Duen_. But former prepossessions give way to my father's commands.
_Isaac_. [_Aside_.] Her father! Yes, 'tis she then.--Lord, Lord; how
blind some parents are!
_Duen_. Signor Isaac!
_Isaac_. [_Aside_.] Truly, the little damsel was right--she has rather
a matronly air, indeed! ah! 'tis well my affections are fixed on her
fortune, and not her person.
_Duen_. Signor, won't you sit? [_She sits_.]
_Isaac_.
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