Florid. And I shall dedicate you a System of the most refin'd and true Philosophy—it is partly from the French, and I call it the Theory of Agreeable Sensations.
Jack. That will give me a reputation for the Belles Lettres; but come, let me see if my arrival is mentioned dans les Affiches—le voila. "Yesterday arriv'd at his Father Sir Robert Broughton's John Broughton, Esq. from his Travels abroad, and we hear that a treaty of Marriage is on foot, and will speedily be consumated between him and Miss Harriet Quicksett, a beautiful young Lady and an Heiress." Pardie! C'est bien suprenant; do my dear Florid, order my vis-a-vis, that I may go abroad and contradict this Rumor. Matrimony is too plain a dish, and what I believe I shall never sit down to—I possibly may go to an Ordinary, but that will only be for a Smack and away—at least if I ever should take up with it, I shall be sure to have it better season'd to my Palate, than mon cher Pere intends. My dear Abbé, I have brought you to a strange country.
Abbé. Pardie! Ver strange indeed! I have see for the times a good deal. I have dine yesterday at a caffée—I know not what you call—Monsieur D'Eschallot bring me dare. Monsieur D'Eschallot, I assure you is ver prett Gentleman, and leave two tousand livres devant, avec droit de chasse, behind him—avec droit de chasse Monsieur; but by Gar I never see such dinner in all my Life. "How do you do?—Very well tank you—What news?—Noting at all—My service to you, to you, to you, to you" all de way down, and ma foi, dey talk no more. And den, jarnie! Me was ver much surprise to see my own Countrymen as unmannerly as de English—and I scramble for de Soup and boulli—me was 'fraid to put my hand to de dish, for fear amidst all de Knife and Fork, somebody in a hurry help himself to my fingers.
Jack. O this Country is enough to ruin the manners of an Angel.
Abbé. And den I was at de play last night, Otello I tink was de play—by Gar he vas in ver great Passion because he loose his Handkercher—such play! It is one of Shakespeare I tink—
Jack. O le Barbare! Voltaire you know calls him a Drunken Savage—un Savage enyorée!
Abbé. But by Gar me vas ver much please to see so many naked Shoulder in de Box, and ma foi, to see some of the Ladies paint as much by Gar as if dey be in Paris. But Monsieur de Broughton tink upon vat I say to you about des Airs, des façons, and de manières—you have already ver pretty French Manners—you have de turn of de Head, de movement of de Shoulder, de geste, de Look, de Inflexion de Voix; and pon my vor, you take snuff, you smile, you whisper, comme à la cour de France.
Jack. Oh you flatter me—I wish I could obtain an Act of Parliament to unnaturalize myself.
Abbé. Laisez moi faire, I make you in ver leetle time so dat nobody know you, you have ver good Naturel; vous avez les graces en partage Monsieur you have ver much grace, and den you must never tink, never plodd—no Embarras about Sense. Il faut voltiger Monsieur—fly about from one ting to an uder, talk ill of your Acquaintance, you must have your leetle Bagatelle, your leetle Persiflage. An so now I go make my memorandum of vat I see in dis country.
(Enter ST. LOUIS)