Lord Fop. Or I deserve to be excommunicated—There is my Lady Tattle, my Lady Prate, my Lady Titter, my Lady Lear, my Lady Giggle, and my Lady Grin. These fit in the Front of the Boxes, and all Church-time are the prettiest Company in the World, stap my Vitals. [To Aman.] Mayn't we hope for the Honour to see your Ladyship added to our Society, Madam?
Aman. Alas, my Lord, I am the worst Company in the World at Church: I'm apt to mind the Prayers, or the Sermon, or——
Lord Fop. One is indeed strangely apt at Church to mind what one should not do. But I hope, Madam, at one time or other, I shall have the Honour to lead your Ladyship to your Coach there. [Aside.] Methinks she seems strangely pleas'd with every thing I say to her—'Tis a vast pleasure to receive Encouragement from a Woman before her Husband's Face——I have a good mind to pursue my Conquest, and speak the thing plainly to her at once—I'gad, I'll do't, and that in so Cavalier a manner, she shall be surpriz'd at it—Ladies, I'll take my Leave: I'am afraid I begin to grow troublesome with the length of my Visit.
Aman. Your Lordship is too entertaining to grow troublesome any where.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] That now was as much as if she had said——Pray lie with me. I'll let her see I'm quick of Apprehension. [To Aman.] O Lard, Madam, I had like to have forgot a Secret, I must needs tell your Ladyship. [To Lov.] Ned, you must not be so jealous now as to listen.
Lov. Not I, my Lord; I'm too fashionable a Husband to pry into the Secrets of my Wife.
Lord Fop. [To Aman. squeezing her Hand.] I am in love with you to Desperation, strike me speechless.
Aman. [Giving him a Box o' th' Ear.] Then thus I return your Passion——An impudent Fool!
Lord Fop. Gad's Curse, Madam, I'm a Peer of the Realm.