A room in Lady Wishfort's house.
LADY WISHFORT at her toilet, PEG waiting.
LADY
Merciful! No news of Foible yet?
PEG
No, madam.
LADY WISHFORT
I have no more patience. If I have not fretted myself till I am pale again, there's no veracity in me. Fetch me the red--the red, do you hear, sweetheart? An errant ash colour, as I'm a person. Look you how this wench stirs! Why dost thou not fetch me a little red? Didst thou not hear me, Mopus?
PEG
The red ratafia, does your ladyship mean, or the cherry brandy?
LADY WISHFORT
Ratafia, fool? No, fool. Not the ratafia, fool--grant me patience!--I mean the Spanish paper, idiot; complexion, darling. Paint, paint, paint, dost thou understand that, changeling, dangling thy hands like bobbins before thee? Why dost thou not stir, puppet? Thou wooden thing upon wires!
PEG
Lord, madam, your ladyship is so impatient.--I cannot come at the paint, madam: Mrs. Foible has locked it up, and carried the key with her.
LADY WISHFORT
A pox take you both.--Fetch me the cherry brandy then.