LORD FOPPINGTON.
Ay; but let my people dispose the glasses so that I may see myself before and behind; for I love to see myself all round. [Puts on his clothes.]
Enter TOM FASHION and LORY. They remain behind, conversing apart.
TOM FASHION.
Heyday! what the devil have we here? Sure my gentleman’s grown a favourite at court, he has got so many people at his levee.
LORY.
Sir, these people come in order to make him a favourite at court—they are to establish him with the ladies.
TOM FASHION.
Good Heaven! to what an ebb of taste are women fallen, that it should be in the power of a laced coat to recommend a gallant to them?
LORY.
Sir, tailors and hair-dressers debauch all the women.
TOM FASHION.
Thou sayest true. But now for my reception.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
[To TAILOR.] Death and eternal tortures! Sir—I say the coat is too wide here by a foot.
TAILOR.
My lord, if it had been tighter, ’twould neither have hooked nor buttoned.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Rat the hooks and buttons, sir! Can anything be worse than this? As Gad shall jedge me, it hangs on my shoulders like a chairman’s surtout.