SCENE: _The Queen's Gallery. The time, nine in the
morning._
_Enter the_ QUEEN, PRINCESS EMILY, PRINCESS CAROLINE,
_followed by_ LORD LIFFORD, _and_ MRS. PURCEL.
_Queen._ Mon Dieu, quelle chaleur! en verite on etouffe. Pray
open a little those windows.
_Lord Lifford._ Hasa your Majesty heara de news?
_Queen._ What news, my dear Lord?
_Lord Lifford._ Dat my Lord Hervey, as he was coming last night
to _tone_, was rob and murdered by highwaymen and tron in a
ditch.
_Princess Caroline._ Eh! grand Dieu!
_Queen_ [_striking her hand upon her knee._] Comment est-il
veritablement mort? Purcel, my angel, shall I not have a little
breakfast?
_Mrs. Purcel._ What would your Majesty please to have?
_Queen._ A little chocolate, my soul, if you give me leave, and a
little sour cream, and some fruit. [_Exit_ MRS. PURCEL.
_Queen_ [_to Lord Lifford._] Eh bien! my Lord Lifford, dites-nous
un peu comment cela est arrive. I cannot imagine what he had to
do to be putting his nose there. Seulement pour un sot voyage
avec ce petit mousse, eh bien?
_Lord Lifford.
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