LADY. A villain; superannuated?
FOIB. Humh, says he, I hear you are laying designs against me too,
says he, and Mrs. Millamant is to marry my uncle (he does not
suspect a word of your ladyship); but, says he, I'll fit you for
that, I warrant you, says he, I'll hamper you for that, says he, you
and your old frippery too, says he, I'll handle you -
LADY. Audacious villain! Handle me? Would he durst? Frippery?
Old frippery? Was there ever such a foul-mouthed fellow? I'll be
married to-morrow, I'll be contracted to-night.
FOIB. The sooner the better, madam.
LADY. Will Sir Rowland be here, say'st thou? When, Foible?
FOIB. Incontinently, madam. No new sheriff's wife expects the
return of her husband after knighthood with that impatience in which
Sir Rowland burns for the dear hour of kissing your ladyship's hand
after dinner.
LADY. Frippery? Superannuated frippery? I'll frippery the
villain; I'll reduce him to frippery and rags, a tatterdemalion!--I
hope to see him hung with tatters, like a Long Lane pent-house, or a
gibbet thief.
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