Prais. That's well, I Faith! Players dry up their Humours! Why what are they good for then? Let her exert her Humours in Dancing, that will do her most good, and become her best.——Oh, here she comes!—--You little Rogue, what do you drink Coffee for?
Mrs. Lucas. For the same Reason you drink Claret; because I love it.
Prais. Ha, Pert! Come, your last Dance, I will not be deny'd.
Lucas. I don't intend you shall; I love to Dance, as well as you do to see me.
Prais. Say'st thou so? Come on then; and when thou hast done, I'll treat you all in the Green Room with Chocolate; Chocolate, Huzzy; that's better by half than Coffee. All agreed.
A Dance by Mrs. Lucas.
Prais. Titely done, I Faith, little Girl.
Enter Mrs. Knight.
Mrs. Cross. Good morrow Mrs. Knight. Pray, dear Mrs. Knight, tell me your Opinion of this Play; you read much, and are a Judge.
Mrs. Knight. Oh your Servant, Madam! Why truly, my Understanding is so very small, I can't find the Ladies meaning out.