Har. Take away that little perverse hand, and let me begin. (Putting his hand upon hers.)
Ag. What a good for nothing creature you are! you can do nothing yourself, and you will suffer no body else to do any thing. I should have had the whole pattern finished before now, if you had not loitered over my chair so long,
Har. So you can't work when I look over you? Then I have some influence upon you? O you sly girl! you are caught in your own words at last.
Ag. Indeed, Harwood, I wish you would go home again to your law-books and your precedent hunting; you have mispent a great deal of time here already.
Har. Is it not better to be with you in reality than only in imagination? Ah! Agnes! you little know what my home studies are.—Law, said you! how can I think of law, when your countenance looks upon me from every black lettered page that I turn? When your figure fills the empty seat by my side, and your voice speaks to me in the very mid-day stillness of my chamber? Ah! my sweet Agnes! you will not believe what a foolish fellow I have been, since I first saw you.
Ag. Nay, Harwood, I am not at all incredulous of the fact, it is only the cause of it which I doubt.
Har. Saucy girl! I must surely be revenged upon you for all this.
Ag. I am tired of this work. (Getting up.)
