Dasher. Draughts of bliss from the fountain of love: basking in the sunshine of your presence. O, Miss Eva, will you save me?
Eva. Once again, Mr. Dasher, I tell you I do not understand you.
Mulligrub (aside). ’Twould puzzle a Dutchman.
Dasher. Have I then been mistaken? have those little delicate attentions which I fondly imagined were gaining for me a corner on your heart—ah, I mean in your heart—been wasted on the desert air?
Mulligrub (aside). Dip’s getting airy.
Dasher. On the brink of a precipice I stand—
Mulligrub (aside). On the rocks again, Dip.
Dasher. Can you see me rush headlong to ruin, angelic Eva.
Mulligrub (aside). Dip’s getting high—
Dasher. You are the star of my destiny; you are the prize for which I strive, you are the divinity of my adoration. Here on my knees—(Falls on his knees L. of Eva.) I swear nothing shall part us.