A Lady Complains About A Costume Party
LADY AUBER: Welcome to the costume ball, Lady Vincent. I am pleased you could attend.
LADY VINCENT: Thank you, Lady Auber. And as what, pray tell, are you dressed?
LADY AUBER: Why, I should think it rather obvious.
LADY VINCENT: You have a ball gown and one of those masques on a stick.
LADY AUBER: Yes! Do I not look lovely?
LADY VINCENT: I suppose. I don’t mean to be blunt, but what specifically are you supposed to be?
LADY AUBER: Forgive me, I don’t understand your question.
LADY VINCENT: This is a costume ball, is it not? Where everyone dresses as something they are not?
LADY AUBER: Yes, dear.
LADY VINCENT: You are not dressed as anything specific. It seems as though you just went through your wardrobe, picked out something that you thought would attract the other gender, added a masque and called it a costume.
LADY AUBER: What is your point, Lady?
LADY VINCENT: It isn’t a legitimate costume. In fact, it is the same outfit that most of the ladies here are wearing.
LADY AUBER: If you feel you are so much better at costuming, then what are you supposed to be? Some kind of horse?
LADY VINCENT: I’m Bottom, you know, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream?
LADY AUBER:…
LADY VINCENT: No? Shakespeare? Not familiar? Bah, does no one see plays anymore? This country is going to the dogs.
LORD HATHAWAY: Good evening, my lady. You look lovely.
LADY VINCENT: Are you serious? She looks like a trollop who found a satchel of shillings in the street and thought, “oh, if I buy a dress, perhaps I will find wealthier clientele.”
LORD HATHAWAY: Would you care to dance?
LADY AUBER: I would be very pleased.
LADY VINCENT: …
LADY VINCENT: I spent a lot of time on this garment.
LADY VINCENT: Well, I’m off.
