‘We are attracted by observing two nymphs wandering in this desert,’ said his Grace of Burlington. This was the Burgundy.
‘And we wish to know whether there be any dragon to destroy, any ogre to devour, any magician to massacre, or how, when, and where we can testify our devotion to the ladies of our love,’ added his Grace of St. James. This was the champagne.
‘The age of chivalry is past,’ said Miss Dacre. ‘Bores have succeeded to dragons, and I have shivered too many lances in vain ever to hope for their extirpation; and as for enchantments——’
‘They depend only upon yourself,’ gallantly interrupted the Duke of Burgundy. Psha!—Burlington.
‘Our spells are dissolved, our wands are sunk five fathom deep; we had retired to this solitude, and we were moralising,’ said Mrs. Dallington Vere.
‘Then you were doing an extremely useless and not very magnanimous thing,’ said the Duke of St. James; ‘for to moralise in a desert is no great exertion of philosophy. You should moralise in a drawing-room; and so let me propose our return to that world which must long have missed us. Let us do something to astound these elegant barbarians. Look at that young gentleman: how stiff he is! A Yorkshire Apollo! Look at that old lady; how elaborately she simpers! The Venus of the Riding! They absolutely attempt to flirt. Let us give them a gallop!’
He was advancing to salute this provincial couple; but his more mature companion repressed him.
‘Ah! I forgot,’ said the young Duke. ‘I am Yorkshire. If I were a western, like yourself, I might compromise my character. Your Grace monopolises the fun.’
‘I think you may safely attack them,’ said Miss Dacre. ‘I do not think you will be recognised. People entertain in this barbarous country, such vulgar, old-fashioned notions of a Duke of St. James, that I have not the least doubt your Grace might have a good deal of fun without being found out.’
‘There is no necessity,’ said the Duke, ‘to fly from Miss Dacre for amusement. By-the-bye, you make a good repartee. You must permit me to introduce you to my friend, Lord Squib. I am sure you would agree so.’