The Double-Dealer: A Comedy

LORD FROTH _and_ SIR PAUL.

Lord Froth. By heavens, I have slept an age. Sir Paul, what o'clock is't? Past eight, on my conscience; my lady's is the most inviting couch, and a slumber there is the prettiest amusement! But where's all the company?

Sir Paul. The company, gads-bud, I don't know, my lord, but here's the strangest revolution, all turned topsy turvy; as I hope for providence.

Lord Froth. O heavens, what's the matter? Where's my wife?

Sir Paul. All turned topsy turvy as sure as a gun.

Lord Froth. How do you mean? My wife?

Sir Paul. The strangest posture of affairs!

Lord Froth. What, my wife?

Sir Paul. No, no, I mean the family. Your lady's affairs may be in a very good posture; I saw her go into the garden with Mr. Brisk.

Lord Froth. How? Where, when, what to do?

Sir Paul. I suppose they have been laying their heads together.

Lord Froth. How?

Sir Paul. Nay, only about poetry, I suppose, my lord; making couplets.

Lord Froth. Couplets.

Sir Paul. Oh, here they come.