TRIP. Madam (eats a mouthful), you do me infinite honour. (Reads again) “When first from Albion’s isle——”
MABEL. No—no—no! (stops her ears.) Mr. Vane intended them for a surprise, and it would spoil his pleasure were I to hear them from you.
TRIP. (sighs). As you please, madam! But you would have liked them, for the theme inspired me. The kindest, the most generous and gifted of women!—don’t you agree with me, madam?
MABEL (laughs). No, indeed!
TRIP. Ah! if you knew her as I do.
MABEL. I ought to know her better, sir.
TRIP. Her kindness to me, for instance: a poor devil like me, if I may be allowed the expression.
MABEL. Nay, you exaggerate her trifling act of civility.
TRIP. (reproachfully). Act of civility, madam! Why she has saved me from despair—from starvation perhaps.
MABEL (aside). Poor thing! how hungry he must have been.