[124]: Love him! Why, do you think I love him, nurse? Ecod, I would not care if he were hanged, so I were but once married to him. No; that which pleases me is to think what work I'll make when I get to London; for when I am a wife and a lady both, nurse, ecod, I'll flaunt it with the best of 'em.
[125]: But, d'ye hear? Pray, take care of one thing: when the business comes to break out, be sure you get between me and my father; for you know his tricks; he will knock me down.
[126]: Voir aussi le caractère du jeune garçon lourdaud et bête, squire Humphrey (A Journey to London, Vanbrugh). Il n'a qu'une idée, manger toujours.
[127]: L'Hippolyta de Wycherley, la Silvia de Farquhar.
[128]: If I marry my Lord Aimwell, there will be title, place, and precedence, the park, the play, and the drawing-room, splendour, equipage, noise, and flambeaux. «Hey, my Lady Aimwell's servants there!—Light, light to the stairs—my Lady Aimwell's coach put forward—stand by, make room for her ladyship.»—Are not those things moving?
[129]: Were it not for your affair in the balance, I should go near to pick up some odious man of quality yet, and only take poor Heartfree for a gallant.
[130]: Look you here, madam, then, what Mr. Tattle has given me.—Look you here, cousin; here's a snuff-box; nay, there's snuff in 't. Here, will you have any?—Oh God, how sweet it is! Mr. Tattle is all over sweet; his peruke is sweet, and his gloves are sweet, and his handkerchief is sweet, pure sweet, sweeter than roses.—Smell him, mother, madam, I mean.—He gave me this ring for a kiss.... Smell, cousin; he says he'll give me something that will make my smocks smell this way. Is not it pure? 'Tis better than lavender, nurse.—I'm resolved I won't let nurse put any more lavender among my smocks—ha, cousin?
MISS PRUE.
Well, and how will you make love to me.—Come, I long to have you begin.—Must I make love too? You must tell me how.