Countess. I declare I like you so well—so much better than I expected—I can no longer treat you with cold reserve—Come sit down. ( They sit. )
Marquis. How kind is this! ( Drawing his chair near to her. )
Countess. ( Looking at him from head to foot. ) Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I protest I can't help laughing—Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Marquis. Ha, ha, ha, ha—I protest no more can I—Sure fate directed me to this heavenly spot, where ceremony has no share in politeness.
Countess. And did you suppose I should use any ceremony with such a sweet, sweet fellow as you?
Marquis. Egad, I'll use no ceremony either. ( Aside. ) Thus, on my knees, let me pour my thanks.
Countess. Oh you artful creature! ( Stroking his cheek. )
Marquis. Art! I disclaim it—and so do you.—You are all pure nature.
Countess. Well, I positively do think you one of the cleverest of your whole sex.
Marquis. Thank you—Thank you—my dearest creature. ( Kissing her hand. )