Isaac. Pardon me, madam, I have scarce recovered my astonishment at your condescension, madam.—[Aside.] She has the devil's own dimples, to be sure!
Duen. I do not wonder, sir, that you are surprised at my affability— I own, signor, that I was vastly prepossessed against you, and, being teased by my father, I did give some encouragement to Antonio; but then, sir, you were described to me as quite a different person.
Isaac. Ay, and so you were to me, upon my soul, madam.
Duen. But when I saw you I was never more struck in my life.
Isaac. That was just my case, too, madam: I was struck all of a heap, for my part.
Duen. Well, sir, I see our misapprehension has been mutual—you expected to find me haughty and averse, and I was taught to believe you a little black, snub-nosed fellow, without person, manners, or address.
Isaac. [Aside.] Egad, I wish she had answered her picture as well!
Duen. But, sir, your air is noble—something so liberal in your carriage, with so penetrating an eye, and so bewitching a smile!
Isaac. [Aside.] Egad, now I look at her again, I don't think she is so ugly!
Duen. So little like a Jew, and so much like a gentleman!