should get rid of that odious beard--one might as well kiss a
hedgehog.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_.] Yes, ma'am, the razor wouldn't be amiss--for
either of us.--[_Aloud_.] Could you favour me with a song?

_Duen_. Willingly, though I'm rather hoarse--ahem![_Begins to sing_.]

_Isaac_. [_Aside_.] Very like a Virginia nightingale!--[_Aloud_.]
Ma'am, I perceive you're hoarse--I beg you will not distress----

_Duen_. Oh, not in the least distressed. Now, sir.

SONG.

When a tender maid
Is first assay'd
By some admiring swain.
How her blushes rise
If she meet his eyes,
While he unfolds his pain!
If he takes her hand, she trembles quite!
Touch her lips, and she swoons outright!
While a pit-a-pat, &c.
Her heart avows her fright.

But in time appear
Fewer signs of fear;
The youth she boldly views:
If her hand he grasp,