Chapter III: Part 3

_Neverout._ Why, if you won’t hear my Tale, kiss my, _&c._

_Miss._ Out upon you, for a filthy Creeter!

_Neverout._ What, Miss! must I tell you a Story, and find you Ears?

_Ld. Sparkish._ [_to Lady Smart._] Pray, Madam, don’t you think Mrs. _Spendal_ very genteel?

_Lady Smart._ Why, my Lord, I think she was cut out for a Gentlewoman, but she was spoil’d in the Making: She wears her Cloaths, as if they were thrown on her with a Pitch-Fork; and, for the Fashion, I believe they were made in the Reign of Queen _Bess_.

_Neverout._ Well, that’s neither here nor there; for you know, the more careless, the more modish.

_Col._ Well, I’d hold a Wager, there will be a Match between her and _Dick Dolt_; and I believe, I can see as far into a Millstone as another Man.

_Miss._ Colonel, I must beg your Pardon a Thousand Times; but they say, An old Ape has an old Eye.

_Neverout._ Miss, what do you mean! you’ll spoil the Colonel’s Marriage, if you call him old.

_Col._ Not so old, nor yet so cold. You know the rest, Miss.

_Miss._ Manners is a fine Thing, truly.

_Col._ Faith, Miss, depend upon it, I’ll give you as good as you bring: What! if you give a Jest, you must take a Jest.

_Lady Smart._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, you’ll ne’er have done till you break that Knife; and then the Man won’t take it again.

_Miss._ Why, Madam, Fools will be medling; I wish, he may cut his Fingers; I hope, you can see your own Blood without fainting.

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, you shine this Morning like a —— Barn-door; you’ll never hold out at this Rate; pray, save a little Wit for To-morrow.

_Miss._ Well, you have said your Say; if People will be rude, I have done; my Comfort is, ’twill be all one a thousand Year hence.

_Neverout._ Miss, you have shot your Bolt: I find, you must have the last Word.—Well, I’ll go to the Opera To-night.—No, I can’t neither, for I have some Business—and yet I think I must, for I promis’d to squire the Countess to her Box.

_Miss._ The Countess of _Puddledock_, I suppose.

_Neverout._ Peace, or War, Miss?

_Lady Smart._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, you’ll never be mad, you are of so many Minds.

[——_As_ Miss _rises, the Chair falls behind her_.——

_Miss._ Well; I shan’t be Lady-Mayoress this Year.

_Neverout._ No, Miss; ’tis worse than that; you won’t be marry’d this Year.

_Miss._ Lord! you make me laugh, tho’ I a’n’t well.

[——Neverout, _as_ Miss _is standing, pulls her suddenly on his
Lap_.——

_Neverout._ Now, Colonel, come, sit down on my Lap; more Sacks upon the Mill.

_Miss._ Let me go; ar’n’t you sorry for my Heaviness?

_Neverout._ No, Miss; you are very light; but I don’t say, you are a light Hussy. Pray, take up the Chair for your Pains.

_Miss._ ’Tis but one body’s Labour, you may do it yourself: I wish, you would be quiet, you have more Tricks than a Dancing Bear.

[——Neverout _rises to take up the Chair, and_ Miss _sits in
his_.——

_Neverout._ You wou’dn’t be so soon in my Grave, Madam.

_Miss._ Lord! I have torn my Petticoat with your odious Romping; my Rents are coming in; I’m afraid, I shall fall into the Ragman’s Hands.

_Neverout._ I’ll mend it, Miss.

_Miss._ You mend it! go, teach your Grannam to suck Eggs.

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, you are so cross, I could find in my Heart to hate you.

_Miss._ With all my Heart; there will be no Love lost between us.

_Neverout._ But, pray, my Lady _Smart_, does not Miss look as if she could eat me without Salt?

_Miss._ I’ll make you one Day sup Sorrow for this.

_Neverout._ Well, follow your own Way, you’ll live the longer.

_Miss._ See, Madam, how well I have mended it.

_Lady Smart._ ’Tis indifferent, as _Doll_ danc’d.

_Neverout._ ’Twill last as many Nights as Days.

_Miss._ Well, I knew, I should never have your good Word.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord, my Lady _Answerall_ and I was walking in the Park last Night till near Eleven; ’twas a very fine Night.

_Neverout._ Egad so was I; and I’ll tell you a comical Accident; egad, I lost my Under-standing.

_Miss._ I’m glad you had any to lose.

_Lady Smart._ Well, but what do you mean?

_Neverout._ Egad, I kick’d my Foot against a Stone, and tore off the Heel of my Shoe, and was forc’d to limp to a Cobler in the _Pall Mall_, to have it put on. He, he, he.

[_All laugh._

_Col._ Oh! ’twas a delicate Night to run away with another Man’s Wife.

[——Neverout _sneezes_.——

_Miss._ God bless you, if you ha’n’t taken Snuff.

_Neverout._ Why, what if I have, Miss?

_Miss._ Why, then, the Duce take you.

_Neverout._ Miss, I want that Diamond-Ring of yours.

_Miss._ Why, then, Want’s like to be your Master.

[——Neverout _looking at the Ring_.——

_Neverout._ Ay, marry, this is not only but also; where did you get it?

_Miss._ Why, where ’twas to be had; where the Devil got the Friar.

_Neverout._ Well; if I had such a fine Diamond-Ring, I woudn’t stay a Day in _England_: But you know, far-fetch’d and dear-bought is fit for Ladies. I warrant, this cost your Father Twopence half-penny.

[——Miss _sitting between_ Neverout _and the_ Colonel.——

_Miss._ Well; here’s a Rose between Two Nettles.

_Neverout._ No, Madam; with Submission, here’s a Nettle between Two Roses.

[——Colonel _stretching himself_.——

_Lady Smart._ Why, Colonel, you break the King’s Laws; you stretch without a Halter.

_Lady Answ._ Colonel, some Ladies of your Acquaintance have promis’d to breakfast with you, and I am to wait on them; what will you give us?

_Col._ Why, faith, Madam, Batchelors Fare; Bread and Cheese, and Kisses.

_Lady Answ._ Poh! what have you Batchelors to do with your Money, but to treat the Ladies? you have nothing to keep but your own Four Quarters.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord, has Captain _Brag_ the Honour to be related to your Lordship?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Very nearly, Madam; he’s my Cousin-German quite remov’d.

_Lady Answ._ Pray, is he not rich?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Ay, a rich Rogue, Two Shirts and a Rag.

_Col._ Well, however, they say, he has a great Estate, but only the Right Owner keeps him out of it.

_Lady Smart._ What Religion is he of?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, he is an _Anythingarian_.

_Lady Answ._ I believe, he has his Religion to chuse, my Lord.

[——Neverout _scratches his Neck_.——

_Miss._ Fie, Mr. _Neverout_, ar’n’t you asham’d! I beg Pardon for the Expression, but I’m afraid, your Bosom-friends are become your Back-biters.

_Neverout._ Well, Miss, I saw a Flea once on your Pinner, and a L—— is a Man’s Companion, but a Flea is a Dog’s Companion: However, I wish, you would scratch my Neck with your pretty white Hand.

_Miss._ And who would be Fool then? I wou’dn’t touch a Man’s Flesh for the Universe: You have the wrong Sow by the Ear, I assure you! that’s Meat for your Master.

_Neverout._ Miss _Notable_, all Quarrels laid aside, pray, step hither for a Moment.

_Miss._ I’ll wash my Hands, and wait on you, Sir; but, pray, come hither, and try to open this Lock.

_Neverout._ We’ll try what we can do.

_Miss._ We:——What, have you Pigs in your Belly?

_Neverout._ Miss, I assure you, I am very handy at all Things.

_Miss._ Marry, hang them that can’t give themselves a good Word: I believe, you may have an even Hand to throw a L—— in the Fire.

_Col._ Well, I must be plain; here’s a very bad Smell.

_Miss._ Perhaps, Colonel, the Fox is the Finder.

_Neverout._ No, Colonel; ’tis only your Teeth against Rain: But——

_Miss._ Colonel, I find, you would make a very bad poor Man’s Sow.

[——Colonel _coughing_.——

_Col._ I have got a sad Cold.

_Lady Answ._ Ay; ’tis well if one can get any thing these hard Times.

_Miss._ [_to Col._] Choak, Chicken; there’s more a hatching.

_Lady Smart._ Pray, Colonel, how did you get that Cold?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, Madam, I suppose, the Colonel got it, by lying a Bed barefoot.

_Lady Answ._ Why, then, Colonel, you must take it for better for worse, as a Man takes his Wife.

_Col._ Well, Ladies, I apprehend you without a Constable.

_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_! Mr. _Neverout_! come hither this Moment!

_Lady Smart._ [_imitating her._] Mr. _Neverout_, Mr. _Neverout_! I wish, he were tied to your Girdle.

_Neverout._ What’s the Matter! whose Mare’s dead now?

_Miss._ Take your Labour for your Pains; you may go back again, like a Fool, as you came.

_Neverout._ Well, Miss; if you deceive me a second time, ’tis my Fault.

_Lady Smart._ Colonel, methinks your Coat is too short.

_Col._ It will be long enough before I get another, Madam.

_Miss._ Come, come; the Coat’s a good Coat, and come of good Friends.

_Neverout._ Ladies, you are mistaken in the Stuff; ’tis half Silk.

_Col._ _Tom Neverout_, you are a Fool, and that’s your Fault.

[——_A great Noise below._——

_Lady Smart._ Hey! what a Clattering is here; one would think, Hell was broke loose.

_Miss._ Indeed, Madam, I must take my Leave, for I a’n’t well.

_Lady Smart._ What! you are sick of the Mulligrubs, with eating chopt Hay.

_Miss._ No, indeed, Madam; I’m sick and hungry, more need of a Cook than a Doctor.

_Lady Answ._ Poor Miss, she’s sick as a Cushion, she wants nothing but stuffing.

_Col._ If you are sick, you shall have a Caudle of Calf’s Eggs.

_Neverout._ I can’t find my Gloves.

_Miss._ I saw the Dog running away with some dirty thing awhile ago.

_Col._ Miss, you have got my Handkerchief; pray, let me have it.

_Lady Smart._ No, keep it, Miss; for they say, Possession is Eleven Points of the Law.

_Miss._ Madam, he shall ne’er have it again; ’tis in Hucksters Hands.

_Lady Answ._ What! I see ’tis Raining again.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, then, Madam, we must do, as they do in _Spain_.

_Miss._ Pray, my Lord, how is that?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, Madam, we must let it rain.

[——Miss _whispers Lady_ Smart.——

_Neverout._ There’s no Whispering, but there’s Lying.

_Miss._ Lord! Mr. _Neverout_, you are as pert as a Pearmonger this Morning.

_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, you are very handsome.

_Miss._ Poh! I know that already; tell me News.

[——_Somebody knocks at the Door._—— Footman _comes in_.

_Footman._ [_to Col._] An please your Honour, there’s a Man below wants to speak to you.

_Col._ Ladies, your Pardon for a Minute.

[Col. _goes out_.

_Lady Smart._ Miss, I sent yesterday to know how you did, but you were gone abroad early.

_Miss._ Why, indeed, Madam, I was hunch’d up in a Hackney-Coach with Three Country Acquaintance, who call’d upon me to take the Air as far as _Highgate_.

_Lady Smart._ And had you a pleasant Airing?

_Miss._ No, Madam; it rain’d all the Time; I was jolted to Death, and the Road was so bad, that I scream’d every Moment, and call’d to the Coachman, Pray, Friend, don’t spill us.

_Neverout._ So, Miss, you were afraid, that Pride wou’d have a Fall.

_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_, when I want a Fool, I’ll send for you.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Miss, didn’t your Left Ear burn last Night?

_Miss._ Pray, why, my Lord?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Because I was then in some Company where you were extoll’d to the Skies, I assure you.

_Miss._ My Lord, that was more their Goodness, than my Desert.

_Ld. Sparkish._ They said, that you were a complete Beauty.

_Miss._ My Lord, I am as God made me.

_Lady Smart._ The Girl’s well enough, if she had but another Nose.

_Miss._ Oh! Madam, I know I shall always have your good Word; you love to help a lame Dog over the Style.

[——_One knocks._——

_Lady Smart._ Who’s there? you’re on the wrong Side of the Door; come in, if you be fat.

[——Colonel _comes in again_.——

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, Colonel, you are a Man of great Business.

_Col._ Ay, ay, my Lord, I’m like my Lord Mayor’s Fool; full of Business, and nothing to do.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord, don’t you think the Colonel mightily fall’n away of late?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Ay; fall’n from a Horse-load to a Cart-load.

_Col._ Why, my Lord, egad I am like a Rabbit, fat and lean in Four-and-twenty Hours.

_Lady Smart._ I assure you, the Colonel walks as strait as a Pin.

_Miss._ Yes; he’s a handsome-body’d Man in the Face.

_Neverout._ A handsome Foot and Leg: God-a-mercy Shoe and Stocking!

_Col._ What! Three upon One! that’s foul Play: This wou’d make a Parson swear.

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, what’s the Matter? You look as if you had neither won nor lost.

_Col._ Why, you must know, Miss lives upon Love.

_Miss._ Yes; upon Love and Lumps of the Cupboard.

_Lady Answ._ Ay; they say, Love and Peas-porridge are two dangerous Things; one breaks the Heart, and the other the Belly.

_Miss._ [_imitating Lady_ Answerall’_s Tone._] Very pretty! One breaks the Heart, and the other the Belly.

_Lady Answ._ Have a Care; they say, mocking is catching.

_Miss._ I never heard that.

_Neverout._ Why, then, Miss, you have a Wrinkle——more than ever you had before.

_Miss._ Well; live and learn.

_Neverout._ Ay; and be hang’d, and forget all.

_Miss._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, take it as you please; but I swear, you are a saucy Jack, to use such Expressions.

_Neverout._ Why, then, Miss, if you go to that, I must tell you, there’s ne’er a Jack but there’s a Jill.

_Miss._ Oh! Mr. _Neverout_; every body knows that you are the Pink of Courtesy.

_Neverout._ And, Miss, all the World allows, that you are the Flower of Civility.

_Lady Smart._ Miss, I hear there was a great deal of Company where you visited last Night: Pray, who were they?

_Miss._ Why, there was old Lady _Forward_, Miss _To-and-again_, Sir _John Ogle_, my Lady _Clapper_, and I, quoth the Dog.

_Col._ Was your Visit long, Miss?

_Miss._ Why, truly, they went all to the Opera; and so poor Pilgarlick came Home alone.

_Neverout._ Alack a day, poor Miss! methinks it grieves me to pity you.

_Miss._ What, you think, you said a fine Thing now; well, if I had a Dog with no more Wit, I would hang him.

_Ld. Smart._ Miss, if it be Manners, may I ask, which is oldest, you or Lady _Scuttle_?

_Miss._ Why, my Lord, when I die for Age, she may quake for Fear.

_Lady Smart._ She’s a very great Gadder abroad.

_Lady Answ._ Lord! she made me follow her last Week through all the Shops like a Tantiny Pig.

_Lady Smart._ I remember, you told me, you had been with her from _Dan_ to _Beersheba_.

[——Colonel _spits_.——

_Col._ Lord! I shall die; I cannot spit from me.

_Miss._ Oh! Mr. _Neverout_, my little Countess has just litter’d; speak me fair, and I’ll set you down for a Puppy.

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, if I speak you fair, perhaps I mayn’t tell Truth.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Ay, but _Tom_, smoke that, she calls you Puppy by Craft.

_Neverout._ Well, Miss, you ride the Fore-horse To-day.

_Miss._ Ay, many a one says well, that thinks ill.

_Neverout._ Fie, Miss! you said that once before; and, you know, Too much of one Thing is good for nothing.

_Miss._ Why, sure, we can’t say a good Thing too often.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Well, so much for that, and Butter for Fish; let us call another Cause: Pray, Madam, does your Ladyship know Mrs. _Nice_?

_Lady Smart._ Perfectly well, my Lord; she’s nice by Name, and nice by Nature.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Is it possible, she could take that Booby _Tom Blunder_ for Love?

_Miss._ She had good Skill in Horse-flesh, that could chuse a Goose to ride on.

_Lady Answ._ Why, my Lord, ’twas her Fate; they say, Marriage and Hanging go by Destiny.

_Col._ I believe she’ll never be burnt for a Witch.

_Ld. Sparkish._ They say, Marriages are made in Heaven; but I doubt, when she was married, she had no Friend there.

_Neverout._ Well, she’s got out of God’s Blessing into the warm Sun.

_Col._ The Fellow’s well enough, if he had any Guts in his Brains.

_Lady Smart._ They say, thereby hangs a Tale.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, he’s a mere Hobbledehoy, neither a Man nor a Boy.

_Miss._ Well, if I were to chuse a Husband, I would never be married to a little Man.

_Neverout._ Pray, why so, Miss? for they say, of all Evils we ought to chuse the least.

_Miss._ Because Folks would say, when they saw us together, There goes the Woman and her Husband.

_Col._ [_to Lady Smart._] Will your Ladyship be on the _Mall_ To-morrow Night?

_Lady Smart._ No, that won’t be proper; you know, To-morrow’s _Sunday_?

_Ld. Sparkish._ What then, Madam! they say, the better Day, the better Deed.

_Lady Answ._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, how do you like Lady _Fruzz_?

_Neverout._ Pox on her! she’s as old as _Poles_.

_Miss._ So will you be, if you ben’t hang’d when you’re young.

_Neverout._ Come, Miss, let us be Friends: Will you go to the Park this Evening?

_Miss._ With all my Heart, and a Piece of my Liver; but not with you.

_Lady Smart._ I’ll tell you one thing, and that’s not two; I’m afraid I shall get a Fit of the Headach To-day.

_Col._ Oh! Madam, don’t be afraid, it comes with a Fright.

_Miss._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam; one of your Ladyship’s Lappets is longer than t’other.

_Lady Answ._ Well, no Matter; they that ride on a trotting Horse will ne’er perceive it.

_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, your Lappets hang worse.

_Miss._ Well, I love a Lyar in my Heart, and you fit me to a Hair.

[——Miss _rises up_.——

_Neverout._ Duce take you, Miss! you trod on my Foot: I hope you don’t intend to come to my Bedside.

_Miss._ In Troth, you are afraid of your Friends, and none of them near you.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Well said, Girl! [_giving her a Chuck._] Take that; they say, a Chuck under the Chin is worth Two Kisses.

_Lady Answ._ But, Mr. _Neverout_, I wonder why such a handsome, strait, young Gentleman as you, do not get some rich Widow.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Strait! Ay, strait as my Leg, and that’s crooked at Knee.

_Neverout._ Faith, Madam, if it rain’d rich Widows, none of them would fall upon me. Egad, I was born under a Threepenny Planet, never to be worth a Groat.

_Lady Answ._ No, Mr. _Neverout_; I believe you were born with a Cawl on your Head; you are such a Favourite among the Ladies: But what think you of Widow _Prim_? she’s immensely rich.

_Neverout._ Hang her! they say, her Father was a Baker.

_Lady Smart._ Ay; but it is not what is she? but what has she? now-a-days.

_Col._ _Tom_, faith, put on a bold Face for once, and have at the Widow. I’ll speak a good Word for you to her.

_Lady Answ._ Ay; I warrant, you’ll speak one Word for him, and two for yourself.

_Miss._ Well; I had that at my Tongue’s End.

_Lady Answ._ Why, Miss, they say, good Wits jump.

_Neverout._ Faith, Madam, I had rather marry a Woman I lov’d, in her Smock, than Widow _Prim_, if she had her Weight in Gold.

_Lady Smart._ Come, come, Mr. _Neverout_; Marriage is honourable, but Housekeeping is a Shrew.

_Lady Answ._ Consider, Mr. _Neverout_, Four bare Legs in a Bed; and you are a younger Brother.

_Col._ Well, Madam; the younger Brother is the better Gentleman: However, _Tom_, I would advise you to look before you leap.

_Ld. Sparkish._ The Colonel says true: Besides, you can’t expect to wive and thrive in the same Year.

_Miss._ [_shuddering._] Lord! there’s somebody walking over my Grave.

_Col._ Pray, Lady _Answerall_, where was you last _Wednesday_, when I did myself the Honour to wait on you? I think, your Ladyship is one of the Tribe of _Gad_.

_Lady Answ._ Why, Colonel, I was at Church.

_Col._ Nay, then will I be hang’d, and my Horse too.

_Neverout._ I believe her Ladyship was at a Church with a Chimney in it.

_Miss._ Lord, my Petticoat! how it hangs by Jommetry.

_Neverout._ Perhaps the Fault may be in your Shape.

_Miss._ [_looking gravely._] Come, Mr. _Neverout_, there’s no Jest like the true Jest; but, I suppose, you think my Back’s broad enough to bear every Thing.

_Neverout._ Madam, I humbly beg your Pardon.

_Miss._ Well, Sir, your Pardon’s granted.

_Neverout._ Well, all Things have an End, and a Pudden has two, up-up-on my-my-my Word. [_stutters._]

_Miss._ What! Mr. _Neverout_, can’t you speak without a Spoon?

_Ld. Sparkish._ [_to Lady Smart._] Has your Ladyship seen the Duchess since your falling out?

_Lady Smart._ Never, my Lord, but once at a Visit; and she look’d at me, as the Devil look’d over _Lincoln_.

_Neverout._ Pray, Miss, take a Pinch of my Snuff.

_Miss._ What! you break my Head, and give me a Plaister; well, with all my Heart; once, and not use it.

_Neverout._ Well, Miss; if you wanted me and your Victuals, you’d want your Two best Friends.

_Col._ [_to Neverout._] _Tom_, Miss and you must kiss, and be Friends.

[Neverout _salutes_ Miss.

_Miss._ Any thing for a quiet Life: my Nose itch’d, and I knew I should drink Wine, or kiss a Fool.

_Col._ Well, _Tom_, if that ben’t fair, hang fair.

_Neverout._ I never said a rude Thing to a Lady in my Life.

_Miss._ Here’s a Pin for that Lye; I’m sure Lyars had need of good Memories. Pray, Colonel, was not he very uncivil to me but just now?

_Lady Answ._ Mr. _Neverout_, if Miss will be angry for nothing, take my Council, and bid her turn the Buckle of her Girdle behind her.

_Neverout._ Come, Lady _Answerall_, I know better Things; Miss and I are good Friends; don’t put Tricks upon Travellers.

_Col._ _Tom_, not a Word of the Pudden, I beg you.

_Lady Smart._ Ah, Colonel! you’ll never be good, nor then neither.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Which of the Goods d’ye mean? good for something, or good for nothing?

_Miss._ I have a Blister on my Tongue; yet, I don’t remember, I told a Lye.

_Lady Answ._ I thought you did just now.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Madam, what did Thought do?

_Lady Answ._ Well, for my Life, I cannot conceive what your Lordship means.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Indeed, Madam, I meant no Harm.

_Lady Smart._ No, to be sure, my Lord! you are as innocent as a Devil of Two Years old.

_Neverout._ Madam, they say, ill Doers are ill Deemers: but I don’t apply it to your Ladyship.

[Miss _mending a Hole in her Lace_.

_Miss._ Well, you see, I’m mending; I hope I shall be good in time; look, Lady _Answerall_, is not it well mended?

_Lady Answ._ Ay, this is something like a Tansy.

_Neverout._ Faith, Miss, you have mended it, as a Tinker mends a Kettle; stop one Hole, and make two.

_Lady Smart._ Pray, Colonel, are not you very much tann’d?

_Col._ Yes, Madam; but a Cup of _Christmas_ Ale will soon wash it off.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Lady _Smart_, does not your Ladyship think, Mrs. _Fade_ is mightily alter’d since her Marriage?

_Lady Answ._ Why, my Lord, she was handsome in her Time; but she cannot eat her Cake, and have her Cake: I hear she’s grown a mere Otomy.

_Lady Smart._ Poor Creature! the Black has set his Foot upon her already.

_Miss._ Ay! she has quite lost the Blue on the Plumb.

_Lady Smart._ And yet, they say, her Husband is very fond of her still.

_Lady Answ._ Oh! Madam; if she would eat Gold, he would give it her.

_Neverout._ [_to Lady Smart._] Madam, have you heard, that Lady _Queasy_ was lately at the Playhouse _incog._?

_Lady Smart._ What! Lady _Queasy_ of all Women in the World! Do you say it upon Rep?

_Neverout._ Poz, I saw her with my own Eyes; she sat among the Mob in the Gallery; her own ugly Fiz: And she saw me look at her.

_Col._ Her Ladyship was plaguily bamb’d; I warrant, it put her into the Hipps.

_Neverout._ I smoked her huge Nose, and egad she put me in mind of the Woodcock, that strives to hide his long Bill, and then thinks nobody sees him.

_Col._ _Tom_, I advise you hold your Tongue; for you’ll never say so good a Thing again.

_Lady Smart._ Miss, what are you looking for?

_Miss._ Oh! Madam; I have lost the finest Needle——

_Lady Answ._ Why, seek till you find it, and then you won’t lose your Labour.

_Neverout._ The Loop of my Hat is broke; how shall I mend it? [_he fastens it with a Pin._] Well, hang them, say I, that has no Shift.

_Miss._ Ay, and hang him, that has one too many.

_Neverout._ Oh! Miss; I have heard a sad Story of you.

_Miss._ I defy you, Mr. _Neverout_; nobody can say, Black’s my Eye.

_Neverout._ I believe, you wish they could.

_Miss._ Well; but who was your Author? Come, tell Truth, and shame the Devil.

_Neverout._ Come then, Miss; guess who it was that told me; come, put on your Considering-cap.

_Miss._ Well, who was it?

_Neverout._ Why, one that lives within a Mile of an Oak.

_Miss._ Well, go hang yourself in your own Garters; for I’m sure, the Gallows groans for you.

_Neverout._ Pretty Miss! I was but in Jest.

_Miss._ Well, but don’t let that stick in your Gizzard.

_Col._ My Lord, does your Lordship know Mrs. _Talkall_?

_Ld. Smart._ Only by Sight; but I hear she has a great deal of Wit; and egad, as the Saying is, Mettle to the Back.

_Lady Smart._ So I hear.

_Col._ Why _Dick Lubber_ said to her t’other Day, Madam, you can’t cry Bo to a Goose: Yes, but I can, said she; and, egad, cry’d Bo full in his Face: We all thought we should break our Hearts with laughing.

_Ld. Sparkish._ That was cutting with a Vengeance: and pr’ythee how did the Fool look?

_Col._ Look? Egad he look’d for all the World like an Owl in an Ivy Bush.

[_A Child comes in screaming._

_Miss._ Well, if that Child was mine, I’d whip it till the Blood came; Peace, you little Vixen! if I were near you, I would not be far from you.

_Lady Smart._ Ay, ay; Batchelors Wives and Maids Children are finely tutor’d.

_Lady Answ._ Come to me, Master; and I’ll give you a Sugar-Plumb. Why, Miss, you forgot that ever you was a Child yourself. [_She gives the Child a Lump of Sugar._] I have heard ’em say, Boys will long.

_Col._ My Lord, I suppose you know, that Mr. _Buzzard_ has married again?

_Lady Smart._ This is his Fourth Wife; then he has been shod round.

_Col._ Why, you must know, she had a Month’s Mind to _Dick Frontless_, and thought to run away with him; but her Parents forc’d her to take the old Fellow for a good Settlement.

_Ld. Sparkish._ So the Man got his Mare again.

_Ld. Smart._ I’m told he said a very good thing to _Dick_; said he, You think us old Fellows are Fools; but we old Fellows know young Fellows are Fools.

_Col._ I know nothing of that; but I know, he’s devilish old, and she’s very young.

_Lady Answ._ Why, they call that a Match of the World’s making.

_Miss._ What if he had been young, and she old?

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, that would have been a Match of the Devil’s making; but when both are young, that’s a Match of God’s making.

[Miss _searching her Pockets for her Thimble, brings out a
Nutmeg_.

_Neverout._ Oh! Miss, have a Care; for if you carry a Nutmeg in your Pocket, you’ll certainly be marry’d to an old Man.

_Miss._ Well, and if ever I be marry’d, it shall be to an old Man; they always make the best Husbands; and it is better to be an old Man’s Darling than a young Man’s Warling.

_Neverout._ Faith, Miss, if you speak as you think, I’ll give you my Mother for a Maid.

[_Lady_ Smart _rings the Bell_. Footman _comes in_.

_Lady Smart._ Harkee, you Fellow; run to my Lady _Match_, and desire she will remember to be here at Six, to play at Quadrille: D’ye hear, if you fall by the Way, don’t stay to get up again.

_Footman._ Madam, I don’t know the House.

_Lady Smart._ Well, that’s not for Want of Ignorance; follow your Nose; go, enquire among the Servants.

[Footman _goes out, and leaves the Door open_.

_Lady Smart._ Here, come back, you Fellow; why did you leave the Door open? Remember, that a good Servant must always come when he’s call’d, do what he’s bid, and shut the Door after him.

[_The_ Footman _goes out again, and falls down Stairs_.

_Lady Answ._ Neck or nothing; come down, or I’ll fetch you down: Well, but I hope, the poor Fellow has not sav’d the Hangman a Labour.

_Neverout._ Pray, Madam, smoke Miss yonder biting her Lips, and playing with her Fan.

_Miss._ Who’s that takes my Name in vain?

[_She runs up to them, and falls down._

_Lady Smart._ What, more falling! do you intend the Frolick should go round?

_Lady Answ._ Why, Miss, I wish you may not have broke her Ladyship’s Floor.

_Neverout._ Miss, come to me, and I’ll take you up.

_Lady Sparkish._ Well, but without a Jest, I hope, Miss, you are not hurt.

_Col._ Nay, she must be hurt for certain; for you see, her Head is all of a Lump.

_Miss._ Well, remember this, Colonel, when I have Money, and you have none.

_Lady Smart._ But, Colonel, when do you design to get a House, and a Wife, and a Fire to put her in?

_Miss._ Lord! who would be marry’d to a Soldier, and carry his Knapsack?

_Neverout._ Oh! Madam: _Mars_ and _Venus_, you know.

_Col._ Egad, Madam, I’d marry To-morrow, if I thought I could bury my Wife just when the Honey-Moon is over; but they say, A Woman has as many Lives as a Cat.

_Lady Answ._ I find, the Colonel thinks, a dead Wife under the Table is the best Goods in a Man’s House.

_Lady Smart._ O but, Colonel, if you had a good Wife, it would break your Heart to part with her.

_Col._ Yes, Madam; for they say, he that has lost his Wife and Sixpence, has lost a Tester.

_Lady Smart._ But, Colonel, they say, that every marry’d Man should believe there’s but one good Wife in the World, and that’s his own.

_Col._ For all that, I doubt, a good Wife must be bespoke, for there is none ready made.

_Miss._ I suppose, the Gentleman’s a Woman-Hater; but, Sir, I think, you ought to remember, that you had a Mother: And pray, if it had not been for a Woman, where would you have been, Colonel?

_Col._ Nay, Miss, you cry’d W——e first, when you talk’d of the Knapsack.

_Lady Answ._ But I hope you won’t blame the whole Sex, because some are bad.

_Neverout._ And they say, he that hates Woman, suck’d a Sow.

_Col._ Oh! Madam; there’s no general Rule without an Exception.

_Lady Smart._ Then, why don’t you marry, and settle?

_Col._ Egad, Madam, there’s nothing will settle me but a Bullet.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Well, Colonel, there’s one Comfort, that you need not fear a Cannon-Bullet.

_Col._ Why so, my Lord?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Because they say, he was curs’d in his Mother’s Belly, that was kill’d by a Cannon-Bullet.

_Miss._ I suppose, the Colonel was cross’d in his first Love, which makes him so severe on all the Sex.

_Lady Answ._ Yes; and I’ll hold a hundred to one, that the Colonel has been over Head and Ears in Love with some Lady, that has made his Heart ake.

_Col._ Oh! Madam, We Soldiers are Admirers of all the fair Sex.

_Miss._ I wish, I could see the Colonel in Love, till he was ready to die.

_Lady Smart._ Ay; but I doubt, few People die for Love in these days.

_Neverout._ Well, I confess, I differ from the Colonel; for I hope to have a rich and a handsome Wife yet before I die.

_Col._ Ay, _Tom_; live Horse, and thou shalt have Grass.

_Miss._ Well, Colonel; but whatever you say against Women, they are better Creatures than Men; for Men were made of Clay, but Woman was made of Man.

_Col._ Miss, you may say what you please; but, faith, you’ll never lead Apes in Hell.

_Neverout._ No, no; I’ll be sworn Miss has not an Inch of Nun’s Flesh about her.

_Miss._ I understumble you, Gentlemen.

_Neverout._ Madam, your humble-cum-dumble.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Miss, when did you see your old Acquaintance Mrs. _Cloudy_? You and She are Two, I hear.

_Miss._ See her! marry, I don’t care whether I ever see her again, God bless my Eye-sight.

_Lady Answ._ Lord! why she and you were as great as two Inkle-weavers. I’ve seen her hug you, as the Devil hug’d the Witch.

_Miss._ That’s true; but I’m told for certain, she’s no better than she should be.

_Lady Smart._ Well, God mend us all; but you must allow, the World is very censorious: I never heard that she was a naughty Pack.

_Col._ [_to Neverout._] Come, Sir _Thomas_, when the King pleases; when do you intend to march?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Have Patience. _Tom_, is your Friend _Ned Rattle_ marry’d?

_Neverout._ Yes, faith, my Lord; he has tied a Knot with his Tongue, that he can never untie with his Teeth.

_Lady Smart._ Ay; marry in Haste, and repent at Leisure.

_Lady Answ._ Has he got a good Fortune with his Lady? for they say, Something has some Savour, but Nothing has no Flavour.

_Neverout._ Faith, Madam, all he gets by her, he may put into his Eye, and see never the worse.

_Miss._ Then, I believe, he heartily wishes her in _Abraham_’s Bosom.

_Col._ Pray, my Lord, how does _Charles Limber_ and his fine Wife agree?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, they say, he’s the greatest Cuckold in Town.

_Neverout._ Oh! but my Lord, you should always except my Lord-Mayor.

_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_!

_Neverout._ Hay, Madam, did you call me?

_Miss._ Hay; why, Hay is for Horses.

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, then you may kiss——

_Col._ Pray, my Lord, what’s a Clock by your Oracle?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Faith, I can’t tell, I think my Watch runs upon Wheels.

_Neverout._ Miss, pray be so kind to call a Servant to bring me a Glass of Small Beer: I know you are at Home here.

_Miss._ Every Fool can do as they’re bid: Make a Page of your own Age, and do it yourself.

_Neverout._ Chuse, proud Fool; I did but ask you.

[Miss _puts her Hand to her Knee_.

_Neverout._ What! Miss, are you thinking of your Sweet-Heart? is your Garter slipping down?

_Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, keep your Breath to cool your Porridge; you measure my Corn by your Bushel.

_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, you lye.——

_Miss._ Did you ever hear any thing so rude?

_Neverout._ I mean, you lye——under a Mistake.

_Miss._ If a thousand Lyes could choak you, you would have been choaked many a Day ago.

[Miss _tries to snatch_ Neverout’_s Snuff-box_.

_Neverout._ Madam, you miss’d that, as you miss’d your Mother’s Blessing.

[_She tries again, and misses._

_Neverout._ Snap short makes you look so lean, Miss.

_Miss._ Poh! you are so robustious, you had like to put out my Eye: I assure you, if you blind me, you must lead me.

_Lady Smart._ Dear Miss, be quiet; and bring me a Pin-cushion out of that Closet.

[Miss _opens the Closet Door, and squalls_.

_Lady Smart._ Lord bless the Girl! what’s the Matter now?

_Miss._ I vow, Madam, I saw something in black, I thought it was a Spirit.

_Col._ Why, Miss, did you ever see a Spirit?

_Miss._ No, Sir; I thank God, I never saw any thing worse than myself.

_Neverout._ Well, I did a very foolish thing yesterday, and was a great Puppy for my Pains.

_Miss._ Very likely; for, they say, many a true Word’s spoke in Jest.

[Footman _returns_.

_Lady Smart._ Well, did you deliver your Message? You are fit to be sent for Sorrow, you stay so long by the Way.

_Footman._ Madam, my Lady was not at Home, so I did not leave the Message.

_Lady Smart._ This is it to send a Fool of an Errand.

_Ld. Sparkish._ [_looking at his Watch._] ’Tis past Twelve a Clock.

_Lady Smart._ Well, what is that among all us?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Madam, I must take my Leave: Come, Gentlemen, are you for a March?

_Lady Smart._ Well, but your Lordship and the Colonel will dine with us To-day; and, Mr. _Neverout_, I hope, we shall have your good Company: There will be no Soul else, besides my own Lord and these Ladies; for every body knows, I hate a Croud; I would rather want Vittles than Elbow-Room: We dine punctually at Three.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Madam, we’ll be sure to attend your Ladyship.

_Col._ Madam, my Stomach serves me instead of a Clock.

[_Another_ Footman _comes back_.

_Lady Smart._ Oh! you are the t’other Fellow I sent: Well, have you been with my Lady _Club_? You are good to send of a dead Man’s Errand.

_Footman._ Madam, my Lady _Club_ begs your Ladyship’s Pardon; but she is engaged To-night.

_Miss._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, here’s the Back of my Hand to you.

_Neverout._ Miss, I find, you will have the last Word. Ladies, I am more yours than my own.

POLITE CONVERSATION, ETC.

DIALOGUE II.

_Lord_ Smart _and the former Company at Three a Clock coming to dine_.

[_After Salutations._

_Lord Smart._ I’m sorry I was not at Home this Morning when you all did us the Honour to call here: But I went to the Levee To-day.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Oh! my Lord; I’m sure the Loss was ours.

_Lady Smart._ Gentlemen and Ladies, you are come to a sad dirty House; I am sorry for it, but we have had our Hands in Mortar.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Oh! Madam; your Ladyship is pleas’d to say so, but I never saw any thing so clean and so fine; I profess, it is a perfect Paradise.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord, your Lordship is always very obliging.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Madam, whose Picture is that?

_Lady Smart._ Why, my Lord, it was drawn for me.

_Ld. Sparkish._ I’ll swear, the Painter did not flatter your Ladyship.

_Col._ My Lord, the Day is finely clear’d up.

_Ld. Smart._ Ay, Colonel; ’tis a pity that fair Weather should ever do any Harm. [_To Neverout._] Why, _Tom_, you are high in the Mode.

_Neverout._ My Lord, it is better be out of the World, than out of the Fashion.

_Ld. Smart._ But, _Tom_, I hear, You and Miss are always quarrelling; I fear, it is your Fault; for I can assure you, she is very good-humour’d.

_Neverout._ Ay, my Lord; so is the Devil when he’s pleas’d.

_Ld. Smart._ Miss, what do you think of my Friend _Tom_?

_Miss._ My Lord, I think, he’s not the wisest Man in the World; and truly, he’s sometimes very rude.

_Ld. Sparkish._ That may be true; but, yet, he that hangs _Tom_ for a Fool, may find a Knave in the Halter.

_Miss._ Well, however, I wish he were hang’d, if it were only to try.

_Neverout._ Well, Miss, if I must be hang’d, I won’t go far to chuse my Gallows; it shall be about your fair Neck.

_Miss._ I’ll see your Nose Cheese first, and the Dogs eating it: But, my Lord, Mr. _Neverout_’s Wit begins to run low, for I vow, he said this before: Pray, Colonel, give him a Pinch, and I’ll do as much for you.

_Ld. Sparkish._ My Lady _Smart_, your Ladyship has a very fine Scarf.

_Lady Smart._ Yes, my Lord; it will make a flaming Figure in a Country Church.

[Footman _comes in_.

_Footman._ Madam, Dinner’s upon the Table.

_Col._ Faith, I’m glad of it; my Belly began to cry Cupboard.

_Neverout._ I wish I may never hear worse News.

_Miss._ What! Mr. _Neverout_, you are in great Haste; I believe, your Belly thinks your Throat’s cut.

_Neverout._ No, faith, Miss; Three Meals a Day, and a good Supper at Night, will serve my Turn.

_Miss._ To say the Truth, I’m hungry.

_Neverout._ And I’m angry, so let us both go fight.

[_They go in to Dinner, and after the usual Compliments, take
their Seats._

_Lady Smart._ Ladies and Gentlemen, will you eat any Oysters before Dinner?

_Col._ With all my Heart. [_Takes an Oyster._] He was a bold Man, that first eat an Oyster.

_Lady Smart._ They say, Oysters are a cruel Meat, because we eat them alive: Then they are an uncharitable Meat, for we leave nothing to the Poor; and they are an ungodly Meat, because we never say Grace.

_Neverout._ Faith, that’s as well said, as if I had said it myself.

_Lady Smart._ Well, we are well set, if we be but as well serv’d: Come, Colonel, handle your Arms; shall I help you to some Beef?

_Col._ If your Ladyship please; and, pray, don’t cut like a Mother-in-Law, but send me a large Slice; for I love to lay a good Foundation. I vow, ’tis a noble Sirloyn.

_Neverout._ Ay; here’s cut, and come again.

_Miss._ But, pray, why is it call’d a Sirloyn?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, you must know, that our King _James_ the First, who lov’d good Eating, being invited to Dinner by one of his Nobles, and seeing a large Loyn of Beef at his Table, he drew out his Sword, and in a Frolic knighted it. Few People know the Secret of this.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Beef is Man’s Meat, my Lord.

_Ld. Smart._ But, my Lord, I say, Beef is the King of Meat.

_Miss._ Pray, what have I done, that I must not have a Plate?

_Lady Smart._ [_to Lady Answ._] What will your Ladyship please to eat?

_Lady Answ._ Pray, Madam, help yourself.

_Col._ They say, Eating and Scratching wants but a Beginning: If you will give me Leave, I’ll help myself to a Slice of this Shoulder of Veal.

_Lady Smart._ Colonel, you can’t do a kinder thing: Well, you are all heartily welcome, as I may say.

_Col._ They say, there are Thirty-and-two good Bits in a Shoulder of Veal.

_Lady Smart._ Ay, Colonel; Thirty bad Bits, and Two good ones: you see, I understand you; but I hope, you have got one of the two good ones.

_Neverout._ Colonel, I’ll be of your Mess.

_Col._ Then, pray, _Tom_, carve for yourself: They say, Two Hands in a Dish, and One in a Purse: Hah, said I well, _Tom_?

_Neverout._ Colonel, you spoke like an Oracle.

_Miss._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, will your Ladyship help me to some Fish?

_Ld. Smart._ [_to Neverout._] _Tom_, they say, Fish should swim thrice.

_Neverout._ How is that, my Lord?

_Ld. Smart._ Why, _Tom_, first it should swim in the Sea, (do you mind me?) then it should swim in Butter; and at last, Sirrah, it should swim in good Claret. I think, I have made it out.

_Footman._ [_to Ld. Smart._] My Lord, Sir _John Linger_ is coming up.

_Ld. Smart._ God so! I invited him to dine with me To-day, and forgot it: Well, desire him to walk in.

[_Sir_ John Linger _comes in_.

_Sir John._ What! are you at it? Why, then, I’ll be gone.

_Lady Smart._ Sir _John_, I beg you will sit down: Come, the more the merrier.

_Sir John._ Ay; but the fewer the better Cheer.

_Lady Smart._ Well, I am the worst in the World at making Apologies; it was my Lord’s Fault: I doubt you must kiss the Hare’s Foot.

_Sir John._ I see you are fast by the Teeth.

_Col._ Faith, Sir _John_, we are killing that, that would kill us.

_Ld. Sparkish._ You see, Sir _John_, we are upon a Business of Life and Death: Come, will you do as we do? You are come in Pudden-Time.

_Sir John._ Ay; this would you be doing if I were dead. What! you keep Court-Hours I see: I’ll be going, and get a Bit of Meat at my Inn.

_Lady Smart._ Why, we won’t eat you, Sir _John_.

_Sir John._ It is my own Fault; but I was kept by a Fellow who bought some _Derbyshire_ Oxen from me.

_Neverout._ You see, Sir _John_, we stay’d for you, as one Horse does for another.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord, will you help Sir _John_ to some Beef? Lady _Answerall_, pray, eat, you see your Dinner: I am sure, if we had known we should have such good Company, we should have been better provided; but you must take the Will for the Deed. I’m afraid you are invited to your Loss.

_Col._ And, pray, Sir _John_, how do you like the Town? You have been absent a long Time.

_Sir John._ Why, I find, little _London_ stands just where it did when I left it last.

_Neverout._ What do you think of _Hannover-Square_? Why, Sir _John_, _London_ is gone out of Town since you saw it.

_Lady Smart._ Sir _John_, I can only say, you are heartily welcome; and I wish I had something better for you.

_Col._ Here’s no Salt; Cuckolds will run away with the Meat.

_Ld. Smart._ Pray, edge a little, to make more Room for Sir _John_: Sir _John_, fall to, you know Half an Hour is soon lost at Dinner.

_Sir John._ I protest I can’t eat a Bit, for I took Share of a Beef-stake and Two Muggs of Ale with my Chapman, besides a Tankard of _March_ Beer, as soon as I got out of Bed.

_Lady Answ._ Not fresh and fasting, I hope?

_Sir John._ Yes, faith, Madam; I always wash my Kettle before I put the Meat in it.

_Lady Smart._ Poh! Sir _John_; you have seen Nine Houses since you eat last: Come, you have kept a Corner of your Stomach for a Piece of Venison-Pasty.

_Sir John._ Well, I’ll try what I can do, when it comes up.

_Lady Answ._ Come, Sir _John_, you may go further, and fare worse.

_Miss._ [_to Neverout._] Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, will you please to send me a Piece of Tongue?

_Neverout._ By no means, Madam; one Tongue’s enough for a Woman.

_Col._ Miss, here’s a Tongue that never told a Lye.

_Miss._ That was, because it could not speak. Why, Colonel, I never told a Lye in my Life.

_Neverout._ I appeal to all the Company, whether that be not the greatest Lye that ever was told.

_Col._ [_to Neverout._] Pr’ythee, _Tom_, send me the Two Legs and Rump and Liver of that Pigeon; for, you must know, I love what nobody else loves.

_Neverout._ But what if any of the Ladies should long? Well, here take it, and the D—l do you good with it.

_Lady Answ._ Well; this Eating and Drinking takes away a body’s Stomach.

_Neverout._ I am sure I have lost mine.

_Miss._ What! the Bottom of it, I suppose.

_Neverout._ No, really, Miss; I have quite lost it.

_Miss._ I should be very sorry a poor body had found it.

_Lady Smart._ But, Sir _John_, we hear you are marry’d since we saw you last: What! you have stolen a Wedding it seems.

_Sir John._ Well; one can’t do a foolish thing once in one’s Life, but one must hear of it a hundred times.

_Col._ And pray, Sir _John_, how does your Lady unknown?

_Sir John._ My Wife’s well, Colonel; and at your Service in a civil way. Ha, ha. [_he laughs._

_Miss._ Pray, Sir _John_, is your Lady tall or short?

_Sir John._ Why, Miss, I thank God, she is a Little Evil.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Come, give me a Glass of Claret.

[Footman _fills him a Bumper_.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why do you fill so much?

_Neverout._ My Lord, he fills as he loves you.

_Lady Smart._ Miss, shall I send you some Cowcomber?

_Miss._ Madam, I dare not touch it; for they say, Cowcombers are cold in the third Degree.

_Lady Smart._ Mr. _Neverout_, do you love Pudden?

_Neverout._ Madam, I’m like all Fools, I love every thing that is good; but the Proof of the Pudden is in the Eating.

_Col._ Sir _John_, I hear you are a great Walker when you are at Home.

_Sir John._ No, faith, Colonel; I always love to walk with a Horse in my Hand: But I have had devilish bad Luck in Horse-flesh of late.

_Ld. Smart._ Why then, Sir _John_, you must kiss a Parson’s Wife.

_Lady Smart._ They say, Sir _John_, that your Lady has a great deal of Wit.

_Sir John._ Madam, she can make a Pudden; and has just Wit enough to know her Husband’s Breeches from another Man’s.

_Lady Smart._ My Lord _Sparkish_, I have some excellent Cyder, will you please to taste it?

_Ld. Sparkish._ My Lord, I should like it well enough, if it were not so treacherous.

_Ld. Smart._ Pray, my Lord, how is it treacherous?

_Ld. Sparkish._ Because it smiles in my Face, and cuts my Throat. [_Here a loud laugh._]

_Miss._ Odd-so! Madam; your Knives are very sharp, for I have cut my Finger.

_Lady Smart._ I am sorry for it; pray, which Finger? (God bless the Mark.)

_Miss._ Why, this Finger: No, ’tis this: I vow I can’t find which it is.

_Neverout._ Ay; the Fox had a Wound, and he could not tell where, _&c._ Bring some Water to throw in her Face.

_Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, did you ever draw a Sword in Anger? I warrant you would faint at the Sight of your own Blood.

_Lady Smart._ Mr. _Neverout_, shall I send you some Veal?

_Neverout._ No, Madam; I don’t love it.

_Miss._ Then pray for them that do. I desire your Ladyship will send me a Bit.

_Ld. Smart._ _Tom_, my Service to you.

_Neverout._ My Lord, this Moment I did myself the Honour to drink to your Lordship.

_Ld. Smart._ Why then that’s _Hartfordshire_ Kindness.

_Neverout._ Faith, my Lord, I pledged myself, for I drank twice together without thinking.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why then, Colonel, my humble Service to You.

_Neverout._ Pray, my Lord, don’t make a Bridge of my Nose.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Well, a Glass of this Wine is as comfortable as Matrimony to an old Woman.

_Col._ Sir _John_, I design one of these Days to come and beat up your Quarters in _Derbyshire_.

_Sir John._ Faith, Colonel, come and welcome; and stay away, and heartily welcome: But you were born within the Sound of _Bow_ Bell, and don’t care to stir so far from _London_.

_Miss._ Pray, Colonel, send me some Fritters.

[_Colonel takes them out with his Hand._

_Col._ Here, Miss; they say, Fingers were made before Forks, and Hands before Knives.

_Lady Smart._ Methinks this Pudden is too much boil’d.

_Ld. Answ._ Oh! Madam, they say, a Pudden is Poison when it’s too much boil’d.

_Neverout._ Miss, shall I help you to a Pigeon? Here’s a Pigeon so finely roasted, it cries, Come eat me.

_Miss._ No, Sir; I thank you.

_Neverout._ Why, then you may chuse.

_Miss._ I have chosen already.

_Neverout._ Well, you may be worse offer’d, before you are twice marry’d.

[_The Colonel fills a large Plate of Soupe._

_Ld. Smart._ Why, Colonel, you don’t mean to eat all that Soupe?

_Col._ O my Lord, this is my sick Dish; when I am well, I’ll have a bigger.

_Miss_ [_to Col._] Sup, _Simon_; very good Broth.

_Neverout._ This seems to be a good Pullet.

_Miss._ I warrant, Mr. _Neverout_ knows what’s good for himself.

_Ld. Sparkish._ _Tom_, I shan’t take your Word for it; help me to a Wing.

[Neverout _tryes to cut off a Wing_.

_Neverout._ Egad I can’t hit the Joint.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, then, think of a Cuckold.

_Neverout._ Oh! now I have nick’d it.

[_Gives it Ld._ Sparkish.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, a Man may eat this, tho’ his Wife lay a dying.

_Col._ Pray, Friend, give me a Glass of Small Beer, if it be good.

_Ld. Smart._ Why, Colonel, they say, there is no such thing as good Small Beer, good Brown Bread, or a good Old Woman.

_Lady Smart._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, I beg your Ladyship’s Pardon; I did not see you when I was cutting that Bit.

_Lady Answ._ Oh! Madam; after you is good Manners.

_Lady Smart._ Lord! here’s a Hair in the Sauce.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Then set the Hounds after it.

_Neverout._ Pray, Colonel, help me however to some of that same Sauce.

_Col._ Come; I think you are more Sauce than Pig.

_Ld. Smart._ Sir _John_, chear up: My Service to you: Well, what do you think of the World to come?

_Sir John._ Truly, my Lord, I think of it as little as I can.

_Lady Smart_ [_putting a Scewer on a Plate._] Here, take this Scewer, and carry it down to the Cook, to dress it for her own Dinner.

_Neverout._ I beg your Ladyship’s Pardon; but this Small Beer is dead.

_Lady Smart._ Why, then, let it be bury’d.

_Col._ This is admirable Black Pudden: Miss, shall I carve you some? I can just carve Pudden, and that’s all; I am the worst Carver in the World; I should never make a good Chaplain.