[ ASIDE }: A rat, more like, is to your taste. [ TO MADAM }: Madam’ s pleasure is my haste.
MADAM CLUTTERBUCK: [ ASIDE }: It just won’ t do, albeit fluke, to have the friar spied upon the window of my good repute. But my maid( I do suspect) has little pudeur to protect. [ TO LUCILLE }: But since you are used to vermin( Lord knows what creatures maids indulge), I am sure my grand boudoir will prove a treat for you, my dear; you needn’ t thank me for my pains.
LUCILLE [ ASIDE }: Which means I must. [ TO MADAM }: Oh, thank you much, so very much! I’ ll prove a tidy resident. [ ASIDE }: Perhaps I’ ll suss out the vermin. [ TO MADAM }: Shall I prepare your luncheon now?
MADAM CLUTTERBUCK:
Yes, my dear, and, by the way, Mascarille tonight will lodge in the farm barn, for some offense he’ s done the master where or whence.
LUCILLE [ ASIDE }: Eccentric schemes afoot tonight! [ TO MADAM }: Your repast shall be served up, right. [ DEPARTS.} SCENE III— MADAM CLUTTERBUCK.
MADAM CLUTTERBUCK: Who was it that invented love, some vixen sprite with injured pique? Perchance a satyr made canards a higher art?