Oliv. Send an excuse; for, positively, you go with me. Heaven and earth! I am going to meet a man! whom I have been fool enough, to dream and think of these two years, and I don't know that ever he thought of me in his life.
Vict. Two years discovering that?
Oliv. He has been abroad. The only time I ever saw him was at the Duchess of Medina's—there were a thousand people; and he was so elegant, so careless, so handsome!—In a word, though he set off for France the next morning, by some witchcraft or other, he has been before my eyes ever since.
Vict. Was the impression mutual?
Oliv. He hardly noticed me. I was then a bashful thing just out of a convent, and shrunk from observation.
Vict. Why, I thought you were going to meet him.
Oliv. To be sure; I sent him a command this morning, to be at the Prado. I am determined to find out if his heart is engaged, and if it is——
Vict. You'll cross your arms, and crown your brow with willows?
Oliv. No, positively; not whilst we have myrtles. I would prefer Julio, 'tis true, to all his sex; but if he is stupid enough to be insensible to me, I shan't for that reason, pine like a girl, on chalk and oatmeal.—No, no; in that case, I shall form a new plan, and treat my future lovers with more civility.
Vict. You are the only woman in love, I ever heard talk reasonably.