Scene XIV.

The Way of the World

by William Congreve

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD in a riding dress, MRS. MARWOOD, PETULANT,
WITWOUD, FOOTMAN.

WITWOUD
In the name of Bartlemew and his Fair, what have we
here?

MRS. MARWOOD
'Tis your brother, I fancy. Don't you know
him?

WITWOUD
Not I:- yes, I think it is he. I've almost forgot
him; I have not seen him since the revolution.

FOOTMAN
Sir, my lady's dressing. Here's company, if you
please to walk in, in the meantime.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Dressing! What, it's but morning here,
I warrant, with you in London; we should count it towards afternoon
in our parts down in Shropshire:- why, then, belike my aunt han't
dined yet. Ha, friend?

FOOTMAN
Your aunt, sir?

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
My aunt, sir? Yes my aunt, sir, and
your lady, sir; your lady is my aunt, sir. Why, what dost thou not
know me, friend? Why, then, send somebody hither that does. How long
hast thou lived with thy lady, fellow, ha?

FOOTMAN
A week, sir; longer than anybody in the house,
except my lady's woman.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Why, then, belike thou dost not know thy
lady, if thou seest her. Ha, friend?

FOOTMAN
Why, truly, sir, I cannot safely swear to her face
in a morning, before she is dressed. 'Tis like I may give a shrewd
guess at her by this time.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Well, prithee try what thou canst do; if
thou canst not guess, enquire her out, dost hear, fellow? And tell
her her nephew, Sir Wilfull Witwoud, is in the house.

FOOTMAN
I shall, sir.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Hold ye, hear me, friend, a word with
you in your ear: prithee who are these gallants?

FOOTMAN
Really, sir, I can't tell; here come so many here,
'tis hard to know 'em all.