Pat. Madam, your Chair Men are come.
Mars. Let them wait, they are paid for't.
Pat. Not yet to my Knowledge, what ever they be after the third Day; there's a long Bill I'm sure.— [Aside.
Mars. How do you think to go Mrs. Wellfed? Shall Pat. call you another Chair?
Mrs. Wellf. I have no Inclination to break poor Mens Backs; I thank you, Madam, I'll go a Foot.
Calist. A Foot!
Mrs. Wellf. Ay, a Foot, 'tis not far, 'twill make me leaner. Your Servant Ladies. [Exit.
Mars. Your Servant.
Prais. A bouncing Dame! But she has done some things well enough.
Mars. Fye, Mr. Praiseall! That you shou'd wrong your Judgment thus! Don't do it, because you think her my Friend: I profess, I can't forbear saying, her Heroicks want Beautiful Uniformity as much as her Person; and her Comedies are as void of Jests as her Conversation.