Guil. By Instinct; such as you ought to know a Person of Quality, and pay your Civilities naturally; in France, where I have travel’d, so much good manners is used, your Citizen pulls off his hat, thus—to every Horse of Quality, and every Coach of Quality; and do you pay my proper Person no more respect, hah!
Isa. What a Dishonour’s this to me, to have so dull a Father, that needs to be instructed in his Duty.
Guil. But, Sir, to open the eyes of your understanding—here’s a Letter to you, from your Correspondent a Merchant of Sevil.
[Gives him a dirty Letter which he wipes on his Cloke and reads, and begins to pull off his hat, and reading on bows lower and lower till he have finisht it.
Fran. Cry Mercy, my Lord,—and yet I wou’d he were a thousand Leagues off.
Guil. I have Bills of Exchange too, directed to thee, old Fellow, at Sevil; but finding thee not there, and I (as most Persons of my Quality are) being something idle, and never out of my way, came to this Town, to seek thee, Fellow—being recommended as thou seest here, old Vermin—here— [Gives him Bills.
Isa. Ah, what a graceful Mein he has! how fine his Conversation! ah, the difference between him and a filthy Citizen!
Jul.—Clara has told me all.— [Jac. whispering to Jul.
Car. That’s she in the middle; stand looking on her languishingly, —your head a little on one side,—so,—fold your Arms,—good,—now and then heave your breast with a sigh,—most excellent.— [He groans.
Fran. Bills for so many thousands.