ARTH. Stop! Don’t be in such a confounded hurry! Let me see! “Loveliest of women,” one! (counting on his fingers)—“conflicting emotions,” two!—“agony,” three!—“despair,” four! Can’t you make it five—one for each finger?
SIR F. Five—the elopement!—there you must come out a little stronger—(declaiming in exaggerated tone)—“Let us fly, loved one!—horses are in readiness to bear us to the nearest station, where the flashing express shall whirl us to—to—” anywhere you like—Madagascar—Seringapatam—Pegwell Bay—no matter!
ARTH. Oh! that’s the style, is it? By Jove, I’ve half a mind to chance it! But when is this precious scheme of yours to come off?
SIR F. At once! As soon as I can secure the presence of my wife, and old Cosey as a listener!—he always takes a nap on this couch when the coast is clear—(turns the couch round with back to the audience). There!—now, you take a stroll in the grounds—I’ll hide behind the window-curtains and give you the signal to come in. Be off! (pushing him up stage).
ARTH. Wait a minute—(counting on his fingers)—“Loveliest of women,” “conflicting emotions,” “agony,” “paggony”—no, not “paggony,” “despair.” Let me see, what’s the little finger?
SIR F. The elopement!
ARTH. All right!
[Exit at C. towards R., counting his fingers.
SIR F. He’s gone at last! I ought to have been born in an atmosphere of diplomacy to develop my talent for intrigue! Ha, ha, ha! how this “little game” of mine will astonish them! But they all want waking up in this house! Cosey’s an old hedgehog, all prickles and prejudices! Arthur’s—never mind what! Myrtle’s a crab-apple—pleasant to look at, but occasionally rather tart to the taste! (here LADY FRITTERLY enters at door L., unperceived by SIR FELIX). As for my wife (here LADY F. stops and listens), she’s a charming woman; but she has one fault, for which I’d gladly exchange a good many of her virtues—she’s so dreadfully proper! Shall I take her into my confidence? No! she hates jokes—especially mine. How she will stare when Arthur opens his batteries!—ha—ha!—run away with my wife!—the notion’s too absurd.