Rover. Then you insist on it that I am—
John. I insist on nothing, only you shall come.
Rover. Indeed! Shall! Shall is a word don't sound over agreeable to my ears.
John. Does a pretty girl sound well to your ear?
Rover. "More music in the clink of her horses' hoofs than twenty hautboys." Why, is this Lady Thing-o-me pretty?
John. Beautiful as a mermaid, and stately as a ship under sail.
Rover. Egad! I've a mind to humour the frolic—Well, well, I'll see your mermaid. But then on the instant of my appearance the mistake must be discovered. [Aside.] Harkye, is this father of mine you talk of at this lady's?
John. No: your father's in chase of the deserters. I find he's afraid to face the old one, so, if I tell him, he won't go with me. [Aside.] No, no, we shan't see him in a hurry.
Rover. Then I'll venture. Has the lady ever seen me?
John. Psha! none of your jokes, man; you know, that her ladyship, no more than myself, has set eyes upon you since you was the bigness of a rumbo canakin.