"TAT. No, dear madam, they are to ask for me.
"WIDOW. I hear a coach. [Exit TATTLEAID.] I have now an exquisite pleasure in the thought of surpassing my Lady Sly, who pretends to have out-grieved the whole town for her husband. They are certainly coming. Oh, no! here let me—thus let me sit and think. [Widow on her couch; while she is raving, as to herself, TATTLEAID softly introduces the ladies.] Wretched, disconsolate, as I am!… Alas! alas! Oh! oh! I swoon! I expire! [Faints.
"SECOND LADY. Pray, Mrs. Tattleaid, bring something that is cordial to her. [Exit TATTLEAID.
"THIRD LADY. Indeed, madam, you should have patience; his lordship was old. To die is but going before in a journey we must all take.
Enter TATTLEAID, loaded with bottles; THIRD LADY takes a bottle from her and drinks.
"FOURTH LADY. Lord, how my Lady Fleer drinks! I have heard, indeed, but never could believe it of her. [Drinks also.
"FIRST LADY. [Whispers.] But, madam, don't you hear what the town says of the jilt, Flirt, the men liked so much in the Park? Hark ye—was seen with him in a hackney coach.
"SECOND LADY. Impudent flirt, to be found out!
"THIRD LADY. But I speak it only to you.
"FOURTH LADY. [Whispers next woman.] Nor I, but to no one.