_Jack._ Well, but courage, Mr. Quicksett, don't be frighten'd--you set out very well--keep it up. Vous ne repondez rien--'tis your turn now. (_Pauses_) Hem! Plait-il Mr. Quicksett, I wait your pleasure, Sir. Pardie! I believe the Gentleman is going to take a Nap. O--this is an English Visit, and I'll sustain an English Conversation. (_He continues silent for some time, looks at Mr. Quicksett and at last addresses him_) How do you do? How do y'do? What News? A very dull day. Egad I wish Monsieur Abbé were looking in upon us, it wou'd furnish him with some pleasant Hints for his Remarks on the English Nation. En bien, Mr. Quicksett--upon my Soul you have a great deal of very pretty Phrases, and most admirable repartee. _Quicksett._ I hear you, Sir, I observe you--this is your French Education. _Jack._ French Education is the only thing in the World to form a pretty Gentleman--it gives a man a notion how to live, and a taste for Intrigue. _Quicksett._ You've had a great many Intrigues, I suppose. _Jack._ Intrigue, Mr. Quicksett is the Pleasure of Life. If you were to see me in a Circle of French Ladies--before I went abroad I had not assurance to look a modest Woman in the face--but now--Je badine--I amuse them with small Talk--Je papillon--I am a very Butterfly. _Quicksett._ That I do verily believe--go on, Sir, give yourself Airs. _Jack._ A Frenchman is the only Person breathing that knows how to give himself Airs--a Frenchman has manners and in short everything. Is a Frenchman in a circle? He takes care neither to say anything nor do anything but what is perfectly obliging. He possibly lends his Ear to one--makes an obliging answer to another, recommends himself to this person with a whisper--to that with a Smile. He declares a civil War of Raillery upon some Person of Wit, says a handsome thing to the Mother, and a soft thing to the Daughter. Do you pay a visit to a Frenchman's Wife? He commodiously withdraws knowing that he is there de trop, that there is no manner of Occasion for him. And if he goes to take a Walk, he does it, thus--with an air--Ha! Ha! Head erect--with a Mien that says, "See me go by," and then the Ladies, they do so ogle, and so admire, and their hearts do so pit-a-pat, and they say to themselves, "Well to be sure that's a pretty fellow." Then cries he, "I know what you'd be at; vous voudriez me possesser--you would be glad to have me, you would be glad to have me." And then in all public places he smiles content, as much as to say, "Well to be sure, Je suis un aimable fripon--I am an agreeable Devil." _Quicksett._ So, so, there's enough of it--it will never do--here. I don't come often to Town--but when I do, I generally see everything strange. Here, here's three Shillings for you. _Jack._ What is this more of your Raillery, Sir? _Quicksett._ There, take it (_Throws the Money down_)--you're worth three Shillings of any man's Money, and so now I'll go and see the Dromedary, and the tall man at Charing Cross.