[Pointing to Flutter.
Flut. Oh! this is one of the Geniuses they hire to entertain the Company with their accidental sallies.——Let me look at your Common-Place Book, friend.—I want a few good things.
Har. I'd oblige you, with all my heart; but you'll spoil them in repeating—or, if you shou'd not, they'll gain you no reputation—for no body will believe they are your own.
Sir Geo. He knows ye, Flutter;—the little Gentleman fancies himself a Wit, I see.
Har. There's no depending on what you see—the eyes of the jealous are not to be trusted.—Look to your Lady.
Flut. He knows ye, Sir George.
Sir Geo. What! am I the Town-talk? [Aside]
Har. I can neither see Doricourt nor Letty.—I must find them out.
[Exit Hardy.
Mrs. Rack. Well, Lady Frances, is not all this charming? Could you have conceived such a brilliant assemblage of objects?