Rem. I made them to fit you, madam.
Lure. Fit me! fit my monkey. What, d’ye think I wear clothes to please myself! Fit me! fit the fashion, pray; no matter for me—I thought something was the matter, I wanted quality-air. Pray, Mr. Remnant, let me have a bulk of quality, a spreading counter. I do remember now, the ladies in the apartments, the birth-night, were most of them two yards about. Indeed, sir, if you contrive my things any more with your scanty chambermaid’s air, you shall work no more for me.
Rem. I shall take care to please your ladyship for the future. [Exit.
A Servant enters.
Serv. Madam, my master desires——
Lure. Hold, hold, fellow; for gad’s sake, hold; if thou touch my clothes with that tobacco breath of thine, I shall poison the whole drawing-room. Stand at the door pray, and speak. (Servant goes to the door and speaks.)
Serv. My master, madam, desires——
Lure. Oh, hideous! Now the rascal bellows so loud that he tears my head to pieces. Here, awkwardness, go take the booby’s message, and bring it to me.
(Maid goes to the door, whispers, and returns.)
Cham. My master desires to know how your ladyship rested last night, and if you are pleased to admit of a visit this morning.