Lov. Why do you repeat my Words, my Dear?
Aman. Because you seem'd to speak them with such Pleasure, I thought I might oblige you with their Echo.
Lov. Then you are alarmed, Amanda?
Aman. It is my Duty to be so, when you are in danger.
Lov. You are too quick in apprehending for me; all will be well when you have heard me out. I do confess I gaz'd upon her, nay, eagerly I gaz'd upon her.
Aman. Eagerly! That's with Desire.
Lov. No, I desir'd her not: I view'd her with a World of Admiration, but not one Glance of Love.
Aman. Take heed of trusting to such nice Distinctions.
Lov. I did take heed; for observing in the Play, that he who seem'd to represent me there, was, by an Accident like this, unwarily surpriz'd into a Net, in which he lay a poor intangled Slave, and brought a Train of Mischiefs on his Head, I snatch'd my Eyes away; they pleaded hard for leave to look again, but I grew absolute, and they obey'd.
Aman. Were they the only things that were inquisitive? Had I been in your place, my Tongue, I fancy, had been curious too: I shou'd have ask'd her Name, and where she liv'd (yet still without Design:)—Who was she, pray?