Lett. An hunger for you! I protest, madam, if you'd let me be his cook, and make you ready, I'd poison him. But I'm glad Simon disobeyed you, and told the gentleman's servant who you were, and your lodging.
Pen. Did the rogue do so? Call him hither.
Lett. Simon, why Simon!
Enter Simon.
Pen. Sirrah, I find I must at last turn you off, you saucy fellow. Don't stand staring and dodging with your feet, and wearing out your livery hat with squeezing for an excuse, but answer me, and that presently.
Sim. I will, madam, as soon as you ask me a question.
Pen. Not afore then—Mr. Pert, don't you know, you told the gentleman's footman in the park who I was, against my constant order, when I walk early. Come, sirrah, tell all that passed between you.
Sim. Why, madam, the gentleman's gentleman came up to me very civilly, and said his master was in discourse with my lady, he supposed; then he fell into talk about vails[54]—about profits in a service; at last, after a deal of civil discourse between us——
Pen. Come, without this preamble, what he asked you, impertinence; tell that, do.
Sim. He asked about you, and Madam Victoria. I said the handsomest of the two is my lady.