_Sir Per_. And fine warm exercise it is, my lord,--especially with the half-pint glasses.
_Lord Lum_. Zounds! it does execution point blanc:--ay, ay, none of your pimping acorn glasses for me, but your manly, old English half-pint bumpers, my dear: they try a fellow's stamina at once:--but, where's Egerton?
_Sir Per_. Just at hand, my lord; there he stands--looking at your lordship's picture.
_Lord Lum_. I beg pardon: I did not see you: I am sorry you left us so soon after dinner: had you staid, you would have been highly entertained. I have made such examples of the commissioner, the captain, and the colonel.
_Lord Lum_. But, Egerton, I have slipt from the company for a few moments, on purpose to have a little chat with you. Rodolpha tells me she fancies there is a kind of demur on your side, about your marriage with her.
_Lord Lum_. Why, as I was drinking my coffee with the women just now, I desired they would fix the wedding night, and the etiquette of the ceremony; upon which the girl burst into a loud laugh, telling me she supposed I was joking, for that Mr. Egerton had never yet given her a single glance or hint upon the subject.
_Sir Per_. My lord, I have been just now talking to him about his shyness to the lady.
_Tom_. Counsellor Plausible is come, sir, and serjeant Eitherside.
_Sir Per_. Why then we can settle the business this very evening, my lord.
_Lord Lum_. As well as in seven years: and, to make the way as short as possible, pray, Mr. Tomlins, present your master's compliments and mine to Lady Rodolpha, and let her ladyship know we wish to speak with her directly: [_Exit_ Tomlins.]--He shall attack her this instant, Sir Pertinax.
_Sir Per_. Ay! this is doing business effectually, my lord.
_Lord Lum_. O! I will pit them in a moment, Sir Pertinax,--that will bring them into the heat of the action at once, and save a great deal of awkwardness on both sides. O! here your dulcinea comes, sir.
_Enter Lady_ RODOLPHA, _singing, a music paper in her hand._
_Lady Rod_. I have been learning this air of Constantia: I protest, her touch on the harpsichord is quite brilliant, and really her voice not amiss. Weel, Sir Pertinax, I attend your commands, and yours, my paternal lord. [_Lady_ Rod. _curtsies very low; my lord bows very low, and answers in the same tone and manner._]