CAT. As for me, I am awfully fond of riddles.

MASC. They exercise the intelligence; I have already written four of
them this morning, which I will give you to guess.

MAD. Madrigals are pretty enough when they are neatly turned.

MASC. That is my special talent; I am at present engaged in turning the
whole Roman history into madrigals.

[Footnote: Seventeen years after this play was performed, Benserade
published _les Metamorphoses d' Ovide mises en rondeaux_.]

MAD. Goodness gracious! that will certainly be superlatively fine; I
should like to have one copy at least, if you think of publishing it.

MASC. I promise you each a copy, bound in the handsomest manner. It does
not become a man of my rank to scribble, but I do it only to serve the
publishers, who are always bothering me.

MAD. I fancy it must be a delightful thing to see one's self in print.

MASC. Undoubtedly; but, by the by, I must repeat to you some extempore
verses I made yesterday at the house of a certain duchess, an
acquaintance of mine. I am deuced clever at extempore verses.

CAT. Extempore verses are certainly the very touch-stone of genius.

MASC. Listen then.