Countess. Ha, ha, ha—is he arrived?—
Antonio. Now in the house—What is the matter?—Did you hear of his intended visit?
Countess. Yes—Ha, ha, ha—how does he look?
Antonio. Delightfully—I don't think I ever saw a handsomer man.
Countess. Man!—Ha, ha, ha, I dare say he looks a little awkward?
Antonio. Aukward! No; he is as elegant in his deportment, and as fine, as finished a young fellow as ever I saw.
Countess. (After looking over the letter.) Certainly, I shall comply with my uncle's request—Let his Lordship be admitted.
Antonio. Niece, I always knew you could not keep your vow—I always knew the very first man that came in your way—crash it would go directly, but let me persuade you to break it by degrees, and not let the world say you made no struggle first.
Countess. Struggle! Now, my dear Uncle, with all your deep discernment, particularly in regard to our sex, to see you at last imposed upon delights me.
Antonio. Imposed upon!