Yes; that rose-coloured silk looks, indeed, like the bands of love; but those don't look quite so like the hands of love: you have been making too free with your snuff-box this morning.
SMITCHENSTAULT.
O it is always so; when I am in de great agitations, I take de great snuffs.
MARY.
So, by this, one may guess at the strength of your passion.
MRS. CHARVILLE.
And I am sure, for these few days past, there is no man in the kingdom who has been within half a pound of tobacco so fervent a lover as Mr. Smitchenstault.
SMITCHENSTAULT.
You do me de great honour.
Re-enterCharville.
CHARVILLE.
Ha, Smitchenstault! What do I see? Hercules with Omphale! A philosopher forgetting his dignity, and condescending to amuse himself with girls!
SMITCHENSTAULT.
O, dere is de potion dat put all dignity to sleep.
