Eger. [Greatly embarrassed.] Madam, I beg your pardon. [Hands her a chair, then one for himself.] Please to sit, madam. [They sit down with great ceremony:  she sits down first.  He sits at a distance from her.  They are silent for some time.  He coughs, hems, and adjusts himself.  She mimicks him.]

Lady Rod. [Aside.] Aha! he’s resolved not to come too near till me, I think.

Eger. [Aside.] A pleasant interview, this—­hem, hem!

Lady Rod. [Aside, mimicks him to herself.] Hem! he will not open the congress, I see.—­Then I will.—­[very loud.] Come, sir, when will you begin?

Eger. [Greatly surprised.] Begin! what, madam?

Lady Rod.  To make love till me.

Eger.  Love, madam!

Lady Rod.  Ay, love, sir.—­Why, you have never said a word till me on the subject,—­nor cast a single glance at me,—­nor heaved one tender sigh,—­nor even secretly squeezed my loof:—­now, sir, thof our fathers are so tyrannical as to dispose of us without the consent of our hearts;—­yet you, sir, I hope, have more humanity than to think of marrying me without administering some of the preliminaries, usual on those occasions:—­if not till my understanding and sentiments, yet till the vanity of my sex, at least, I hope you will pay some little tribute of ceremony and adulation:  that, I think, I have a right to expect.

Eger.  Madam, I own your reproach is just:—­I shall therefore no longer disguise my sentiments, but fairly let you know my heart.

Lady Rod. [Starts up, and runs to him.] That’s right,—­that is right, cousin;—­honourably and affectionately right;—­that is what I like of aw things in my swain.—­Ay, ay, cousin—­open your mind frankly till me, as a true lover shou’d.—­But sit you down—­sit you down again:  I shall return your frankness and your passion, cousin, with a melting tenderness, equal till the amorous enthusiasm of an ancient heroine.

Eger.  Madam, if you will hear me——­

Lady Rod.  But, remember, you must begin with fervency,—­and a most rapturous vehemency:—­for you are to consider, cousin, that our match is nai to arise fra the union of hearts, and a long decorum of ceremonious courtship;—­but is instantly to start at once—­out of necessity, or mere accident;—­ha, ha, ha! like a match in an ancient romance,—­where you ken, cousin,—­the knight and the damsel are mutually smitten and dying for each other at first sight,—­or by an amorous sympathy before they exchange a single glance.

Eger.  Dear madam, you entirely mistake——­

Lady Rod.  And our fathers,—­ha, ha, ha! our fathers are to be the dark magicians that are to fascinate our hearts and conjure us together, whether we will or not.

Eger.  Ridiculous!

Lady Rod.  So now, cousin, with the true romantic enthusiasm,—­you are to suppose me the lady of the enchanted castle, and you—­ha, ha, ha! you are to be the knight of the sorrowful countenance—­ha, ha, ha! and, upon honour—­you look the character admirably;—­ha, ha, ha!