Calis. Sir, I am your humble Servant.
Mr. Powell. Ounds! What am I fell into the Hands of two Female Poets? There's nothing under the Sun, but two Bailiffs, I'd have gone so far to have avoided.
Calis. I believe, Mr. Powell, I shall trouble you quickly.
Mr. Pow. When you please Madam.
Calis. Pray, Mr. Powell, don't speak so carelesly: I hope you will find the Characters to your Satisfaction; I make you equally in Love with two very fine Ladies.
Mr. Pow. Oh, never stint me Madam, let it be two Douzen, I beseech you.
Calis. The Thought's new I am sure.
Mr. Pow. The Practice is old, I am sure.
Mrs. Wellf. Now, Mr. Powell, hear mine: I make two very fine Ladies in Love with you, is not that better? Ha!
Calis. Why, so are my Ladies.