Lor. O, I love an easy woman! there’s such ado, to crack a thick-shelled mistress; we break our teeth, and find no kernel.  ’Tis generous in you, to take pity on a stranger, and not to suffer him to fall into ill hands at his first arrival.

Elv. You may have a better opinion of me than I deserve; you have not seen me yet; and, therefore, I am confident you are heart-whole.

Lor. Not absolutely slain, I must confess; but I am drawing on apace:  you have a dangerous tongue in your head, I can tell you that; and if your eyes prove of as killing metal, there is but one way with me.  Let me see you, for the safeguard of my honour; ’tis but decent the cannon should be drawn down upon me before I yield.

Elv. What a terrible similitude have you made, colonel, to shew that you are inclining to the wars?  I could answer you with another in my profession:  Suppose you were in want of money, would you not be glad to take a sum upon content in a sealed bag, without peeping?—­but, however, I will not stand with you for a sample. [Lifts up her veil.

Lor. What eyes were there! how keen their glances! you do well to keep them veiled; they are too sharp to be trusted out of the scabbard.

Elv. Perhaps now, you may accuse my forwardness; but this day of jubilee is the only time of freedom I have had; and there is nothing so extravagant as a prisoner, when he gets loose a little, and is immediately to return into his fetters.

Lor. To confess freely to you, madam, I was never in love with less than your whole sex before; but now I have seen you, I am in the direct road of languishing and sighing; and, if love goes on as it begins, for aught I know, by to-morrow morning you may hear of me in rhyme and sonnet.  I tell you truly, I do not like these symptoms in myself.  Perhaps I may go shufflingly at first; for I was never before walked in trammels; yet, I shall drudge and moil at constancy, till I have worn off the hitching in my pace.

Elv. Oh, sir, there are arts to reclaim the wildest men, as there are to make spaniels fetch and carry:  chide them often, and feed them seldom.  Now I know your temper, you may thank yourself, if you are kept to hard meat.  You are in for years, if you make love to me.

Lor. I hate a formal obligation with an Anno Domini at end on’t; there may be an evil meaning in the word years, called matrimony.

Elv. I can easily rid you of that fear:  I wish I could rid myself as easily of the bondage.

Lor. Then you are married?

Elv. If a covetous, and a jealous, and an old man be a husband.

Lor. Three as good qualities for my purpose as I could wish:  now love be praised!

  Enter ELVIRA’S Duenna, and whispers to her.

Elv. [Aside.] If I get not home before my husband, I shall be ruined. [To him.] I dare not stay to tell you where.  Farewell!—­Could I once more—­ [Exit.