T.I quite believe it. And then you said
That you would see her to-night.
F. Pray mind your business, Tristram:
Pay more attention to what is said to you,
And less to what is not. Whom would you speak of?
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T. I speak of no one, sir.
F.No more do I. [Exit.
T. My master’s mad. If this is court life, I shall soon curse my birthday, like dutiful Job. ’Tis a madhouse. If there were any sense in anything that’s said or done, I’d swear my life that the Countess was in love with my master, and he might have her for the asking. Yet who can tell what she means, when every one plays at being in love with somebody? ’Tis a fashion with them as catching as the measles. My constitution holds out, thank heaven. (Sings.)
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