I shew him the same face
that I ever wore, and treat him pretty much in the same manner (or I am
mistaken) that I ever did: and what reason can he give, that will not
demonstrate him to be the most ungrateful of men, for the airs he gives
himself? Airs that he would not have presumed to put on eight days ago.
Who then, Harriet, has reason to complain of grievance; my lord, or I?
LORD G. You see, Miss Byron--Can there be any arguing with a woman who
knows herself to be in jest, in all she says?
HAR. Why then, my lord, make a jest of it. What will not bear an
argument, will not be worth one's anger.
LORD G. I leave it to Miss Byron, Lady G----, to decide between us, as
she pleases.
LADY G. You'd better leave it to me, sir.
HAR. Do, my lord.
LORD G. Well, madam!--And what is your decree?
LADY G. You, Miss Byron, had best be Lady Chancellor, after all. I
should not bear to have my decree disputed, after it is pronounced.
HAR. If I must, my decree is this:--You, Lady G---- shall own yourself
in fault; and promise amendment. My lord shall forgive you; and promise
that he will, for the future, endeavour to distinguish between your good
and your ill-nature: that he will sit down to jest with your jest, and
never be disturbed at what you say, when he sees it accompanied with that
archness of eye and lip which you put on to your brother, and to every
one whom you best love, when you are disposed to be teazingly facetious.
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