Jac. A Mussulman, at your service.
Wild. A Mussulwoman, say you? I protest, by your voice, I should have taken you for a Christian lady of my acquaintance.
Jac. It seems you are in love then: If so, I have done with you. I dare not invade the dominions of another lady; especially in a country where my ancestors have been so unfortunate.
Wild. Some little liking I might have, but that was only a morning-dew; 'tis drawn up by the sunshine of your beauty: I find your African Cupid is a much surer archer than ours of Europe. Yet would I could see you; one look would secure your victory.
Jac. I'll reserve my face to gratify your imagination with it; make what head you please, and set it on my shoulders.
Wild. Well, madam, an eye, a nose, or a lip shall break no squares: The face is but a span's breadth of beauty; and where there is so much besides, I'll never stand with you for that.
Jac. But, in earnest, do you love me?
Wild. Ay, by Alla, do I, most extremely: You have wit in abundance, you dance to a miracle, you sing like an angel, and, I believe, you look like a cherubim.
Jac. And can you be constant to me?
Wild. By Mahomet, can I.