Mr. Prais. Your Servant Madam, I shall find a time.
Mr. Aw'dw. So shall I!
Mr. Prais. 'Tis hard tho' one can't speak a Word to a Lady without being over-heard.
Mar. Come Mr. Aw'dwell, sit down, I am oblig'd to you for what you have done, but this Fellow may make a Party for me at the Coffee-house; therefore prithee let him alone, tho' I believe my Play won't want it.—Now clear the Stage; Prompter give me the Book! Oh, Mr. Powell, you must stay, I shall want your Advice; I'll tell ye time enough for your Entrance.
Mr. Pow. Madam, give me leave to take a Glass of Sack, I am qualmish.
Mars. Oh! Fie, Mr. Powell, we'll have Sack here; d'ye see Ladies, you have teaz'd Mr. Powell sick: Well, Impertinence, in a Woman is the Devil!
Mrs. Wellf. Shall we stay to be affronted?
Calista. Prithee let's stay, and laugh at her Opera, as she calls it, for I hear 'tis a very foolish one.
Mar. Come Prologue-Speakers! Prologue Speakers! Where are you? I shall want Sack my self, by and by, I believe.
Enter Two Men with Whiskers, large Truncheons, Drest strangely.