TAILOR.
’Tis not for me to dispute your lordship’s fancy.
LORY.
There, sir, observe what respect does.
TOM FASHION.
Respect! damn him for a coxcomb!—But let’s accost him.—[Coming forward.] Brother, I’m your humble servant.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
O Lard, Tam! I did not expect you in England. Brother, I’m glad to see you. But what has brought you to Scarborough, Tam!—[To the TAILOR.] Look you, sir, I shall never be reconciled to this nauseous wrapping-gown, therefore pray get me another suit with all possible expedition; for this is my eternal aversion.—[Exit TAILOR.] Well but, Tam, you don’t tell me what has driven you to Scarborough.—Mrs. Calico, are not you of my mind?
Semp.
Directly, my lord.—I hope your lordship is pleased with your ruffles?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
In love with them, stap my vitals!—Bring my bill, you shall be paid tomorrow.
Semp.
I humbly thank your worship. [Exit.]
LORD FOPPINGTON.
Hark thee, shoemaker, these shoes aren’t ugly, but they don’t fit me.
SHOEMAKER.
My lord, I think they fit you very well.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
They hurt me just below the instep.