Ela. Oh, there was then no danger, Cousin.
Bell. No, but abundance of pleasure.
Ela. Why, this is better than sighing for Charmante.
Bell. That’s when he’s present only, and makes his Court to me; I can sigh to a Lover, but will never sigh after him:—but Oh, the Beaus, the Beaus, Cousin, that I saw at Church.
Ela. Oh, you had great devotion to Heaven then!
Bell. And so I had; for I did nothing but admire its Handy-work, but I cou’d not have pray’d heartily, if I had been dying; but a duce on’t, who shou’d come in and spoil all but my Lover Charmante, so dress’d, so gallant, that he drew together all the scatter’d fragments of my Heart, confin’d my wandering Thoughts, and fixt ‘em all on him: Oh, how he look’d, how he was dress’d!
SINGS.
Chevalier à Cheveux blonds, Plus de Mouche, plus de Poudre, Plus de Ribons et Cannons.
—Oh, what a dear ravishing thing is the beginning of an Amour!
Ela. Thou’rt still in Tune, when wilt thou be tame, Bellemante?