PHOEBE. As soon as you see a lady with a pretty nose you cannot help saying that you adore her. BLADES (_in an ecstasy_). Nay, I swear. PHOEBE. And you offer to her, not from love, but because you are so deficient in conversation. SPICER. Charming, Miss Livvy. PHOEBE (_with sudden irritation_). Oh, sir, go away; go away, both of you, and read improving books. (_They are cast down. She has not been quite fair to these gallants, for it is not really of them she has grown weary so much as of the lady they temporarily adore. If_ MISS PHOEBE _were to analyse her feelings she would find that her remark is addressed to_ LIVVY, _and that it means, 'I have enjoyed for a little pretending to be you, but I am not you and I do not wish to be you. Your glitter and the airs of you and the racket of you tire me, I want to be done with you, and to be back in quiet Quality Street, of which I am a part; it is really pleasant to me to know that I shall wake up to-morrow slightly middle-aged.' With the entrance of_ CAPTAIN BROWN, _however, she is at once a frivol again. He frowns at sight of her cavaliers._) VALENTINE. Gentlemen, I instructed this lady to rest, and I am surprised to find you in attendance. Miss Livvy, you must be weary of their fatuities, and I have taken the liberty to order your chaise. PHOEBE. It is indeed a liberty. BLADES. An outrage. PHOEBE. I prefer to remain. VALENTINE. Nay. PHOEBE. I promised this dance to Ensign Blades. SPICER. To me, ma'am. PHOEBE. And the following one to Lieutenant Spicer. Mr. Blades, your arm. VALENTINE. I forbid any further dancing. PHOEBE. Forbid. La! BLADES. Sir, by what right---- VALENTINE. By a right which I hope to make clear to Miss Livvy as soon as you gentlemen have retired. (PHOEBE _sees that the declaration is coming. She steels herself._) PHOEBE. I am curious to know what Captain Brown can have to say to me. In a few minutes, Mr. Blades, Lieutenant Spicer, I shall be at your service. VALENTINE. I trust not. PHOEBE. I give them my word. (_The young gentlemen retire, treading air once more_. BROWN _surveys her rather grimly._) VALENTINE. You are an amazing pretty girl, ma'am, but you are a shocking flirt. PHOEBE. La! VALENTINE. It has somewhat diverted me to watch them go down before you. But I know you have a kind heart, and that if there be a rapier in your one hand there is a handkerchief in the other ready to staunch their wounds. PHOEBE. I have not observed that they bled much. VALENTINE. The Blades and the like, no. But one may, perhaps. PHOEBE (_obviously the reference is to himself_). Perhaps I may wish to see him bleed. VALENTINE (_grown stern_). For shame, Miss Livvy. (_Anger rises in her, but she wishes him to proceed._) I speak, ma'am, in the interests of the man to whom I hope to see you affianced.