Quicksett. You've had a great many Intrigues, I suppose.
Jack. Intrigue, Mr. Quicksett is the Pleasure of Life. If you were to see me in a Circle of French Ladies—before I went abroad I had not assurance to look a modest Woman in the face—but now—Je badine—I amuse them with small Talk—Je papillon—I am a very Butterfly.
Quicksett. That I do verily believe—go on, Sir, give yourself Airs.
Jack. A Frenchman is the only Person breathing that knows how to give himself Airs—a Frenchman has manners and in short everything. Is a Frenchman in a circle? He takes care neither to say anything nor do anything but what is perfectly obliging. He possibly lends his Ear to one—makes an obliging answer to another, recommends himself to this person with a whisper—to that with a Smile. He declares a civil War of Raillery upon some Person of Wit, says a handsome thing to the Mother, and a soft thing to the Daughter. Do you pay a visit to a Frenchman's Wife? He commodiously withdraws knowing that he is there de trop, that there is no manner of Occasion for him. And if he goes to take a Walk, he does it, thus—with an air—Ha! Ha! Head erect—with a Mien that says, "See me go by," and then the Ladies, they do so ogle, and so admire, and their hearts do so pit-a-pat, and they say to themselves, "Well to be sure that's a pretty fellow." Then cries he, "I know what you'd be at; vous voudriez me possesser—you would be glad to have me, you would be glad to have me." And then in all public places he smiles content, as much as to say, "Well to be sure, Je suis un aimable fripon—I am an agreeable Devil."
Quicksett. So, so, there's enough of it—it will never do—here. I don't come often to Town—but when I do, I generally see everything strange. Here, here's three Shillings for you.
Jack. What is this more of your Raillery, Sir?
Quicksett. There, take it (Throws the Money down)—you're worth three Shillings of any man's Money, and so now I'll go and see the Dromedary, and the tall man at Charing Cross.
(Enter SIR ROBERT)
Sir Robert. Well, Mr. Quicksett, I told you he was reform'd.
Quicksett. No, no it will never do—he is reform'd indeed! To be plain with you Sir Robert, he's little better than a Monkey, I think. I have heard how he had the Mob at his heels today, and I don't wonder at it. There's no harm done, Sir Robert, I'll take the Girl into the Country with me.