SCENE XXI.
[To them] Lady Froth, Brisk.
BRISK. My lord, your humble servant; Sir Paul, yours,—the finest night!
LADY FROTH. My dear, Mr. Brisk and I have been star-gazing, I don’t know how long.
SIR PAUL. Does it not tire your ladyship? Are not you weary with looking up?
LADY FROTH. Oh, no, I love it violently. My dear, you’re melancholy.
LORD FROTH. No, my dear; I’m but just awake.
LADY FROTH. Snuff some of my spirit of hartshorn.
LORD FROTH. I’ve some of my own, thank you, dear.
LADY FROTH. Well, I swear, Mr. Brisk, you understood astronomy like an old Egyptian.