For Susan you know, is Thetis, and so -
BRISK. Incomparable well and proper, egad--but I have one exception
to make--don't you think bilk--(I know it's good rhyme)--but don't
you think BILK and FARE too like a hackney coachman?
LADY FROTH. I swear and vow I'm afraid so. And yet our Jehu was a
hackney coachman, when my lord took him.
BRISK. Was he? I'm answered, if Jehu was a hackney coachman. You
may put that in the marginal notes though, to prevent criticism--
only mark it with a small asterism, and say, 'Jehu was formerly a
hackney coachman.'
LADY FROTH. I will. You'd oblige me extremely to write notes to
the whole poem.
BRISK. With all my heart and soul, and proud of the vast honour,
let me perish.
LORD FROTH. Hee, hee, hee, my dear, have you done? won't you join
with us? We were laughing at my Lady Whifler and Mr. Sneer.
LADY FROTH. Ay, my dear, were you? Oh, filthy Mr. Sneer; he's a
nauseous figure, a most fulsamic fop, foh! He spent two days
together in going about Covent Garden to suit the lining of his
coach with his complexion.
LORD FROTH. O silly! yet his aunt is as fond of him as if she had
brought the ape into the world herself.
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