Sir Luke. Very well, Madam—but did not the whole company cry shame on your behaviour? did not they say, it was not the conduct of a wife?
Lady. Only our particular acquaintance cou'd say so—for the rest of the company, I am sure, did not take me to be your wife—thank Heaven, our appearances never betray that secret—do you think we look like the same flesh and blood?
Sir Luke. That day, in particular, we did not—for I remember you had been no less than three hours at your toilet.
Aur. And, indeed, Sir Luke, if you were to use milk of roses, and several other little things of that kind, you can't think how much more like a fine gentleman you wou'd look.—Such things as those make, almost, all the difference there is between you and such a gentleman as Mr. Twineall.
Twi. No, pardon me, Madam—a face like mine may use those things—but in Sir Luke's, they wou'd entirely destroy that fine martial appearance—[Sir Luke looks confounded.] which women as well as men admire—for, as valour is the first ornament of our sex——
Lady. What are you saying, Mr. Twineall? [Aside.] I'll keep him on this subject if I can.
Twi. I was going to observe, Madam—that the reputation of a General—which puts me in mind, Sir Luke, of an account I read of a battle—[He crosses over to Sir Luke, who turns up the Stage in the utmost confusion, and steals out of the room.]
Lady. Well, Sir—go on—go on—you were going to introduce—
Twi. A battle, Madam—but, Sir Luke is gone!
Lady. Never mind that, Sir—he generally runs away on these occasions.