Col. O miss, they say all good singers have colds.

Ld. Sparkish. Pray, madam, does not miss sing very well?

Lady Answ. She sings, as one may say, my

lord.

Miss. I hear Mr. Neverout has a very good voice. Col. Yes, Tom sings well, but his luck's nought. Neverout. Faith, colonel, you hit yourself a devilish box on the ear.

Col. Miss, will you take a pinch of snuff?

Miss. No, colonel, you must know that I never take snuff but when I am angry.

Lady Answ. Yes, yes, she can take snuff, but she has never a box to put it in.

Miss. Pray, colonel, let me see that box.
Col. Madam, there's never a C upon it.
Miss. Maybe there is, colonel.

Col. Ay, but May bees don't fly now, miss. Neverout. Colonel, why so hard upon poor miss? Don't set your wit against a child. Miss, give me a blow, and I'll beat him.

Miss. So she prayed me to tell you.

Ld. Sparkish. Pray, my Lady Smart, what kin are you to Lord Pozz?

Lady Smart. Why, his grandmother and mine had four elbows.

Lady Answ. Well, methinks here's a silent meeting. Come, miss, hold up your head, girl; there's money bid for you. [Miss starts. Miss. Lord, madam, you frighten me out of my

seven senses!

Ld. Sparkish. Well, I must be going.

Lady Answ. I have seen hastier people than you stay all night.

Col. [To Lady Smart.] Tom Neverout and I are to leap to-morrow for a guinea.

Miss. I believe, Colonel, Mr. Neverout can leap at a crust better than you.

Neverout. Miss, your tongue runs before your wit nothing can tame you but a husband.

Miss. Peace! I think I hear the church-clock. Neverout. Why, you know, as the fool thinks— Lady Smart. Mr. Neverout, your handkerchief's fallen.

Miss. Let him set his foot on it, that it mayn't fly in his face.

Neverout. Well, miss—

Miss. Ay, ay; many a one says well that thinks ill. Neverout. Well, miss, I'll think on this.

Miss. That's rhyme, if you take it in time. Neverout. What! I see you are a poet. Miss. Yes, if I had but the wit to shew it. Neverout. Miss, will you be so kind as to fill me a dish of tea?

Miss. Pray let your betters be served before you; I'm just going to fill one for myself; and, you know, the parson always christens his own child first.

Neverout. But I saw you fill one just now for the Colonel Well, I find kissing goes by favour.

Miss. But pray, Mr. Neverout, what lady was that you were talking with in the side-box last Tuesday? Neverout. Miss, can you keep a secret?

Miss. Yes, I can.

Neverout. Well, miss, and so can I.

Col. Odd-so! I have cut my thumb with this cursed knife!

Lady Answ. Ay; that was your mother's fault, because she only warned you not to cut your fingers. Lady Smart. No, no; 'tis only fools cut their fingers, but wise folks cut their thumbs.

Miss. I'm sorry for it, but I can't cry.
Col. Don't you think miss is grown?
Lady Answ. Ay, ill weeds grow apace.

A puff of smoke comes down the chimney. Lady Answ. Lord, madam, does your ladyship's chimney smoke?

Col. No, madam; but they say smoke always pursues the fair, and your ladyship sat nearest.

*

Lady Smart. Madam, do you love bohea tea? Lady Answ. Why, madam, I must confess I do love it, but it does not love me.

Miss. [To Lady Smart.] Indeed, madam, your ladyship is very sparing of your tea; I protest, the last I took was no more than water bewitch'd.

Col. Pray, miss, if I may be so bold, what lover gave you that fine etuy?

Miss. Don't you know?—then keep counsel. Lady Answ. I'll tell you, Colonel, who gave it her it was the best lover she will ever have while she lives her own dear papa.

Neverout. Methinks, miss, I don't much like the colour of that riband.

Miss. Why, then, Mr. Neverout, do you see, if you don't much like it, you may look off it.

Ld. Sparkish. I don't doubt, madam, but your ladyship has heard that Sir John Brisk has got an employment at court.

* "That smoke doth follow the fairest, is an usual saying with us, and in many parts of Europe, whereof, although there seem no natural ground, yet is it the continuation of a very ancient opinion, as Petras Victorius and Casaubon have observed, from a passage in Athenæus, wherein a parasite thus describeth himself :

BROWNE'S Vulgar Errours, Lond. p. 226.

Lady Smart. Yes, yes; and I warrant he thinks himself no small fool now.

Neverout. Yes, madam; I have heard some people take him for a wise man.

Lady Smart. Ay, ay; some are wise, and some are otherwise.

Lady Answ. Do you know him, Mr. Neverout? Neverout. Know him! ay, as well as the beggar knows his dish.

Col. Well, I can only say that he has better luck than honester folks. But, pray, how came he to get this employment?

Ld. Sparkish. Why, by chance, as the man killed

the devil.

Neverout. Why, miss, you are in a brown study: what's the matter? Methinks you look like Mumchance, that was hanged for saying nothing.

Miss. I'd have you to know, I scorn your words. Neverout. Well, but scornful dogs will eat dirty puddings.

Miss. Well, my comfort is, your tongue is no slander. What! you would not have one be always on the high grin?

Neverout. Cry mapsticks, madam; no offence, I

Lady SMART breaks a tea-cup.

Lady Answ. Lord, madam, how came you to break your cup?

Lady Smart. I can't help it, if I would cry my eyes out.

Miss. Why, sell it, madam, and buy a new one with some of the money.

Col. 'Tis a folly to cry for spilt milk.

Lady Smart. Why, if things did not break, or wear out, how would tradesmen live?

Miss. Well, I am very sick, if anybody cared for

it. [She spits.] I believe I shall die, for I can't spit

from me.

Neverout. Come, then, miss, e'en make a die of it, and then we shall have a burying of our own.

Miss. The devil take you, Neverout! besides all small curses.

Lady Answ. Marry come up! What, plain Neverout! methinks you might have an M under your girdle, miss.

Lady Smart. Well, well, nought's never in danger. I warrant miss will spit in her hand, and hold fast. -Colonel, do you like this biscuit?

Col. I'm like all fools; I love everything that's good.

Lady Smart. Well, and isn't it pure good?
Col. 'Tis better than a worse.

Footman brings the Colonel a letter.

Lady Answ. I suppose, Colonel, that's a billetdoux from your mistress.

Col. 'Egad, I don't know whence it comes; but, whoe'er writ it, writes a hand like a foot.

Miss. Well, you may make a secret of it, but we can spell, and put together.

Neverout. Miss, what spells b double uzzard? Miss. Buzzard, in your teeth, Mr. Neverout. Lady Smart. Now you are up, Mr. Neverout, will you do me the favour to do me the kindness to take off the tea-kettle?

Ld. Sparkish. I wonder what makes these bells ring.

Lady Answ. Why, my lord, I suppose, because they pull the ropes. [Here all laugh.

NEVEROUT plays with a tea-cup.

Miss. Now, a child would have cried half an