_Ger._ Yes; and you will go with me yet, I hope.--Courage, miss! we have yet an opportunity; and the gallery-window is yet open. _Hip._ No, no; if I went, I would go for good and all: but now my father will soon come in again, and may quickly overtake us. Besides, now I think on't, you are a stranger to me; I know not where you live, nor whither you might carry me. For aught I know, you might be a spirit, and carry me to Barbadoes. _Ger._ No, dear miss, I would carry you to court, the playhouses, and Hyde-park-- _Hip._ Nay, I know 'tis the trick of all you that spirit women away, to speak 'em mighty fair at first: but when you have got 'em in your clutches, you carry 'em into Yorkshire, Wales, or Cornwall, which is as bad as to Barbadoes; and rather than be served so, I would be a prisoner in London still as I am. _Ger._ I see the air of this town, without the pleasures of it, is enough to infect women with an aversion for the country. Well, miss, since it seems you have some diffidence in me, give me leave to visit you as your dancing-master, now you have honoured me with the character; and under that I may have your father's permission to see you, till you may better know me and my heart, and have a better opportunity to reward it. _Hip._ I am afraid to know your heart would require a great deal of time; and my father intends to marry me very suddenly to my cousin, who sent you hither. _Get._ Pray, sweet miss, let us make the better use of our time if it be short. But how shall we do with that cousin of yours in the mean time? we must needs charm him. _Hip._ Leave that to me. _Ger._ But (what's worse) how shall I be able to act a dancing-master, who ever wanted inclination and patience to learn myself? _Hip._ A dancing-school in half an hour will furnish you with terms of the art. Besides, Love (as I have heard say) supplies his scholars with all sorts of capacities they have need of, in spite of nature:--but what has love to do with you? _Ger._ Love, indeed, has made a grave gouty statesmen fight duels, the soldier fly from his colours, a pedant a fine gentlemen, nay, and the very lawyer a poet; and, therefore, may make me a dancing-master. _Hip._ If he were your master. _Ger._ I'm sure, dearest miss, there is nothing else which I cannot do for you already; and, therefore, may hope to succeed in that. _Re-enter_ Don DIEGO. _Don._ Come, have you done? _Hip._ O, my father again! _Don._ Come, now let us see you dance. _Hip._ Indeed I am not perfect yet: pray excuse me till the next time my master comes. But when must he come again, father? _Don._ Let me see--friend, you must needs come after dinner again, and then at night again, and so three times to-morrow too. If she be not married to-morrow, (which I am to consider of,) she will dance a corant in twice or thrice teaching more; will she not? for 'tis but a twelvemonth since she came from Hackney-school.