Nev. 'Would to Heaven you were in earnest!
Vapid. Earnest! why there it is now! the women, dear creatures, are always ready enough to produce effect—but the men are so curst undramatic.—Go to her, I tell you, go to her.
[Exit Neville.—Vapid stands aside.
Enter Lord Scratch and Floriville.
Lord. That curst dramatic maniac,—if I see him again——
Flor. My dear uncle, consent to Harry's marriage, and depend on it he shall trouble you no more.
Lord. I tell you again, sir, I will not.
Flor. Will you give any hopes of future consent?
Lord. By the word of a peer, I will not.
[Vapid, coming forward, touching Lord Scratch on the Shoulder, and writing in common-place book.