SERVANT. 'Tis her ladyship Sir—She always leaves her Chair at the milliner's in the next Street.
SURFACE. Stay—stay—draw that Screen before the Window—that will do—my opposite Neighbour is a maiden Lady of so curious a temper!—
[SERVANT draws the screen and exit.]
I have a difficult Hand to play in this Affair—Lady Teazle as lately suspected my Views on Maria—but She must by no means be let into that secret, at least till I have her more in my Power.
Enter LADY TEAZLE
LADY TEAZLE. What[!] Sentiment in soliloquy—have you been very impatient now?—O Lud! don't pretend to look grave—I vow I couldn't come before——
SURFACE. O Madam[,] Punctuality is a species of Constancy, a very unfashionable quality in a Lady.
LADY TEAZLE. Upon my word you ought to pity me, do you now Sir Peter is grown so ill-tempered to me of Late! and so jealous! of Charles too that's the best of the story isn't it?
SURFACE. I am glad my scandalous Friends keep that up. [Aside.]
LADY TEAZLE. I am sure I wish He would let Maria marry him—and then perhaps He would be convinced—don't you—Mr. Surface?