Prais. Priscian, you mean; Hush! Hush!
Mrs. Wellf. He cares not for entring the Lists neither. Come, Mr. Praiseall, I'll put you upon a more pleasing Task. Try to prevail with that Fair Lady, to give us her New Dialogue.
Prais. What, my Angel?
Mrs. Wellf. Mrs. Cross, I mean.
Prais. There is no other She, Madam.
Mrs. Cross. Sir!
Prais. Will you be so good, to charm our Ears, and feast our Eyes; let us see and hear you in Perfection.
Mrs. Cross. This Complement is a Note above Ela. If Marsilia shou'd catch me anticipating her Song, she'd chide sadly.
Mrs. Wellf. Oh, we'll watch. I'll call Mr. Leveridge.
Song by Mrs. Cross.——A Dialogue.