Alscrip. Molly, the sooner we get out of court the better—we have damnably the worst of this cause, so come along, Molly—[Taking her under the Arm.]—and farewell to Berkeley Square. Whoever wants Alscrip House, will find it in the neighbourhood of Furnival's Inn, with the noble title of Scrivener, in capitals—Blank bonds at the windows, and a brass knocker at the door. [Pulling her.] Come along, Molly.
Miss Als. [Half crying.—Aside.] Oh! the barbarous metamorphosis—but his flusterums for a week, will serve my temper, as a regimen. I will then take the management of my affairs into my own hands, and break from my cloud anew: and you shall find [To the Company.] there are those without a coronet, that can be as saucy, and as loud, and stop the way in all public places, as well as the best of you. [Lady Emily laughs.] Yes, madam, and without borrowing your ladyship's airs.
Als. [Pulling her.] Come along, Molly.
Miss Als. Oh you have been a jewel of a father.
[The Company laugh.
[Exeunt Mr. and Miss Alscrip.
[Mr. and Mrs. Blandish stay behind.
Lady E. Mrs. Blandish, sure you do not leave your friend, Miss Alscrip, in distress?
Mrs. Blandish. We'll not disturb the ashes of the dead—my sweet Lady Emily—
Blandish. Oh my sweet sister, none of your flourishes—In the present mood of the company, even mine would not do. Truth and sentiment have the ascendency. But let them alone; and they'll come round again. [Addressing the Company.] Flattery is the diet of good humour; and not one of you can live without it; and when you quarrel with the family of Blandish, you only leave refined cookery, to be fed upon scraps, by a poor cousin or a led captain.