Niece. Farewell, rustic.
Hump. Bye, Biddy.
Aunt. Rustic! Biddy! Ha! ha! pretty creatures. [Exeunt.
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE.—A Street.
Enter Captain Clerimont and Pounce.
Cler. Does she expect me then, at this very instant?
Pounce. I tell you, she ordered me to bring the painter at this very hour, precisely, to draw her niece; for, to make her picture peculiarly charming, she has now that downcast pretty shame, that warm cheek, glowing with the fear and hope of to-day's fate, with the inviting, coy affection of a bride, all in her face at once. Now I know you are a pretender that way.