Vaine. In what?
Eng. Mons. In finding fault with a pair of tops I wore yesterday; and, upon my parol, I never had a pair sat better in my life. My leg look’d in ’em not at all like an English leg.
Vaine. Sir, all that I said of your tops was, that they made such a rushing noise as you walk’d, that my mistress could not hear one word of the love I made to her.
Eng. Mons. Sir, I cannot help that; for I shall justify my tops in the noise they were guilty of, since ’twas Alamode of France. Can you say ’twas an English noise.
Vaine. I can say, though your tops were made in France, they made a noise in England.
Eng. Mons. But still, Sir, ’twas a French noise—
Vaine. But cannot a French noise hinder a man from hearing?
Eng. Mons. No, certainly, that’s a demonstration; for, look you, Sir, a French noise is agreeable to the air, and therefore not unagreeable, and therefore not prejudicial, to the hearing; that is to say, to a person that has seen the world.
The Monsieur comforts himself, when his mistress rejects him, that “’twas a denial with a French tone of voice, so that ’twas agreeable:” and, at her final departure, “Do you see, Sir, how she leaves us? she walks away with a French step.”
C. L.