|Title||The Man of Mode; or, Sir Fopling Flutter, II, i|
|Author||George Etherege (c. 1636-1692)|
|Quote||Act II, Scene i|
EMILIA. Here has been Mrs Loveit, so uneasy and out of humour these two days.
LADY TOWNLEY. How strangely love and jealousy rage in that poor woman!
MEDLEY. She could not have picked out a devil upon earth so proper to torment her; he has made her break a dozen or two of fans already, tear half a score points in pieces, and destroy hoods and knots without number.
LADY TOWNLEY. We heard of a pleasant serenade he gave her t’other night.
MEDLEY. A Danish serenade, with kettledrums and trumpets.
EMILIA. Oh, barbarous!
MEDLEY. What, you are of the number of the ladies whose ears are grown so delicate since our operas, you can be charmed with nothing but flutes douces and French hautboys.
EMILIA. Leave your raillery, and tell us is there any new wit come forth, songs or novels?
|Notes||Etherege's portraits of 17th-century fops and beaux are considered to be the best of their kind.|
|References||Manifold (1956: 122).|