Mrs. Wellf. He treats her with what ought to be dispis'd, Flattery.
Mars. What was that you said? Some fine thing I dare swear? Well, I beg your Pardon a Thousand times: My Head was got to Cataline: Oh, Mr. Powell, you shall be Catiline, not Ben Johnson's Fool, but my Cataline, Mr. Powell.
Mr. Pow. I'd be a Dog to serve your Ladyship, as a Learned Author has it.
Mar. Oh my Jehu! What, no Body come?
Mrs. Knight. No Body, Madam! Why here's all the Players.
Mar. Granted, Mrs. Knight and I have great Value for all the Players, and your self in particular; but give me leave to say, Mrs. Knight, when I appear, I expect all that have any Concerns in the Play-house, shou'd give their Attendance, Knights, Squires, or however dignified, or distinguished.
Mrs. Knight. I beg your Pardon, Madam, if we poor Folks, without Titles, cou'd have serv'd you, we are ready.
Mar. Mr. Powell! Mr. Powell! Pray stay by my Elbow. Lord! I don't use to ask a Man twice to stand by me.
Mr. Pow. Madam, I am here.
Mr. Prais. Ha! A rising Favourite, that may Eclipse my Glory; Madam, I have been taking true Pains to keep your Princes and Princesses together here.