TOM FASHION.
Shall you be back to dinner?
LORD FOPPINGTON.
As Gad shall jedge me, I can’t tell; for it is passible I may dine with some friends at Donner’s.
TOM FASHION.
Shall I meet you there? For I must needs talk with you.
LORD FOPPINGTON.
That I’m afraid mayn’t be quite so praper; for those I commonly eat with are people of nice conversation; and you know, Tam, your education has been a little at large.—But there are other ordinaries in town—very good beef ordinaries—I suppose, Tam, you can eat beef?—However, dear Tam, I’m glad to see thee in England, stap my vitals! [Exit, LA VAROLE following.]
TOM FASHION.
Hell and furies! is this to be borne?
LORY.
Faith, sir, I could almost have given him a knock o’ the pate myself.
TOM FASHION.
’Tis enough; I will now show you the excess of my passion, by being very calm.—Come, Lory, lay your loggerhead to mine, and, in cold blood, let us contrive his destruction.
LORY.
Here comes a head, sir, would contrive it better than both our loggerheads, if she would but join in the confederacy.
TOM FASHION.
By this light, Madam Coupler! she seems dissatisfied at something: let us observe her.
Enter MRS. COUPLER.