Madam. Inteed, Matam, to say de trute, he want leetel Good-breeding.
Lady Fan. Good-breeding! He wants to be caned, Madamoiselle: an insolent Fellow! And yet let me expose my Weakness, 'tis the only Man on Earth I cou'd resolve to dispense my Favours on, were he but a fine Gentleman. Well! did Men but know how deep an Impression a fine Gentleman makes in a Lady's Heart, they would reduce all their Studies to that of Good-breeding alone.
Enter Cornet.
Cor. Madam, here's Mr. Treble. He has brought home the Verses your Ladyship made, and gave him to set.
Lady Fan. O let him come in by all means. Now Madamoiselle, am I going to be unspeakably happy.
Enter Treble.
So, Mr. Treble, you have set my little Dialogue?
Treb. Yes, Madam, and I hope your Ladyship will be pleased with it.
Lady Fan. O, no doubt on't; for really, Mr. Treble, you set all things to a wonder: But your Musick is in particular heavenly, when you have my Words to clothe in't.
Treb. Your Words themselves, Madam, have so much Musick in 'em, they inspire me.