Mock. Could I but dance well, push well,[63] play upon the flute, and swear the most modish oaths, I would set up for quality with e'er a young nobleman of 'em all. Pray what are the most fashionable oaths in town? Zoons, I take it, is a very becoming one.
Rigadoon. (a dancing-master.) Zoons is only used by the disbanded officers and bullies, but zauns is the beaux pronunciation.
Mock. Zauns!
Rig. Yes, Sir; we swear as we dance; smooth and with a cadence—Zauns! 'Tis harmonious, and pleases the ladies, because it is soft. Zauns, Madam, is the only compliment our great beaux pass on a lady.
Mock. But suppose a lady speaks to me; what must I say?
Rig. Nothing, Sir; you must take snuff grin, and make her a humble cringe—thus: (Bows foppishly and takes snuff; Mockmode imitates him awkwardly, and taking snuff, sneezes.) O Lord, Sir! you must never sneeze; 'tis as unbecoming after orangery as grace after meat.
Mock. I thought people took it to clear the brain.
Rig. The beaux have no brains at all, Sir; their skull is a perfect snuff-box; and I heard a physician swear, who opened one of 'em, that the three divisions of his head were filled with orangery, bergamot, and plain Spanish.
Mock. Zauns! I must sneeze, (sneezes.) Bless me!
Rig. Oh, fy! Mr. Mockmode! what a rustical expression that is! 'Bless me!' You should upon all such occasions cry, Dem me! You would be as nauseous to the ladies as one of the old patriarchs, if you used that obsolete expression.