Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature.

MEL. Ay, my lord, I shall have the same reason for my happiness
that your lordship has, I shall think myself happy.

LORD FROTH. Ah, that's all.

BRISK. [To LADY FROTH.] Your ladyship is in the right; but, i'gad,
I'm wholly turned into satire. I confess I write but seldom, but
when I do--keen iambics, i'gad. But my lord was telling me your
ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem.

LADY FROTH. Did my lord tell you? Yes, I vow, and the subject is
my lord's love to me. And what do you think I call it? I dare
swear you won't guess--THE SILLABUB, ha, ha, ha.

BRISK. Because my lord's title's Froth, i'gad, ha, ha, ha, deuce
take me, very e propos and surprising, ha, ha, ha.

LADY FROTH. He, ay, is not it? And then I call my lord Spumoso;
and myself, what d'ye think I call myself?

BRISK. Lactilla, may be,--i'gad, I cannot tell.

LADY FROTH. Biddy, that's all; just my own name.

BRISK. Biddy! I'gad, very pretty. Deuce take me if your ladyship
has not the art of surprising the most naturally in the world. I
hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem.