Mar. Why, thou thoughtless inconsiderable Animal! Thou driv'ling dreaming Lump! Is it not past Nine o'Clock? Must not I be at the Rehearsal by Ten, Brainless? And here's a Toylet scarce half furnish'd!
Pat. I am about it, Madam.
Mar. Yes, like a Snail!—--. Mount, my aspiring Spirit! Mount! Hit yon azure Roof, and justle Gods! [Repeats.
Pat. Madam, your things are ready.
Mar. Abominable! Intollerable! past enduring! [Stamps. Speak to me whilst I'm Repeating! Interrupting Wretch! What, a Thought more worth Than worlds of thee!—--what a Thought have I lost!— Ay, ay, 'tis gone, 'tis gone beyond the Clouds. [Cries. Whither now, Mischievous? Do I use to Dress without Attendance? So, finely prepar'd, Mrs. Negligence! I never wear any Patches!
Pat. Madam.
Mar. I ask you if ever you saw me wear any Patches? Whose Cook maid wert thou prithee? The Barbarous Noise of thy Heels is enough to put the Melody of the Muses out of ones Head.——Almond Milk for my Hands.——Sower! By Heav'n this Monster designs to Poyson me.
Pat. Indeed, Madam; 'tis but just made; I wou'd not offer such an affront to those charming Hands for the World.
Mar. Commended by thee! I shall grow sick of 'em.—— Well, but Patty, are not you vain enough to hope from the fragments of my Discourse you may pick up a Play? Come, be diligent, it might pass amongst a Crowd, And do as well as some of its Predecessors.