COLONEL TOWNLY.
Come with me; I shall pass by it.
TOM FASHION.
I wish you could pay this visit for me, or could tell me what I should say to him.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
Say nothing to him—apply yourself to his bag, his sword, his feather, his snuff-box; and when you are well with them, desire him to lend you a thousand pounds, and I’ll engage you prosper.
TOM FASHION.
’Sdeath and furies! why was that coxcomb thrust into the world before me? O Fortune, Fortune, thou art a jilt, by Gad! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—LORD FOPPINGTON’S Dressing-room.
Enter LORD FOPPINGTON in his dressing-gown, and LA VAROLE.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
[Aside.] Well, ’tis an unspeakable pleasure to be a man of quality—strike me dumb! Even the boors of this northern spa have learned the respect due to a title.—[Aloud.] La Varole!
LA VAROLE.
Milor—
LORD FOPPINGTON.
You ha’n’t yet been at Muddymoat Hall, to announce my arrival, have you?
LA VAROLE.
Not yet, milor.