Razor. Come, kiss me, then.

[Putting his hands behind

Madem. Nay, pridee, tell me.

Razor. Good b’ye.

[Going.

Madem. Hold, hold! I will kiss dee.

[Kissing him.

Razor. So, that’s civil! Why, now, my pretty Poll, my gold. finch, my little water-wagtail, you must know that—Come, kiss me again.

Madem. I won’t kiss de no more.

Razor. Good b’ye.

Madem. Doucement! dere! es tu content?

[Kissing him.

Razor. So, now I’ll tell thee all. Why, the news is, that cuckoldom in folio is newly printed, and matrimony in quarto is just going into the press. Will you buy any books, mademoiselle.

Madem. Tu parle comme un libraire; de devil, no understand dee!

Razor. Why, then, that I may make myself intelligible to a waiting-woman, I’ll speak like a valet-de-chambre: my lady has cuckolded my master.

Madem. Bon.

Razor. Which we take very ill from her hands, I can tell her that. We can’t yet prove matter of fact upon her.

Madem. N’importe.

Razor. But we can prove, that matter of fact had like to have been upon her.

Madem. Ouy-da.

Razor. For we have such terrible circumstances—

Madem. Sans doute.

Razor. That any man of parts may draw tickling conclusions from them.

Madem. Fort bien.

Razor. We found a couple of tight, well-built gentlemen stuffed into her ladyship’s closet.

Madem. Le diable!


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