Esop. So, Sir?
Quaint. Sir, I am inform'd from common Fame, as well as from some little private familiar Intelligence, that your Wisdom is ent'ring into Treaty with the Primum Mobilè of Good and Evil, a fine Lady. I have travell'd, Sir; I have read, Sir; I have consider'd, Sir; and I find, Sir, that the Nature of a fine Lady is to be——a fine Lady, Sir; a fine Lady's a fine Lady, Sir, all the World over;——she loves a fine House, fine Furniture, fine Clothes, fine Liveries, fine Petticoats, fine Smocks; and if she stops there—she's a fine Lady indeed, Sir. But to come to my Point. It being the Lydian Custom, that the fair Bride should be presented on her Wedding-day with something that may signify the Merit and the Worth of her dread Lord and Master, I thought the noble Esop's Pedigree might be the welcom'st Gift that he could offer. If his Honour be of the same Opinion—I'll speak a bold Word—there's ne'er a Herald in all Asia shall put better Blood in his Veins, than—Sir, your humble Servant, Jacob Quaint.
Esop. Dost thou then know my Father, Friend? For I protest to thee I am a Stranger to him.
Quaint. Your Father, Sir? Ha, ha! I know every Man's Father, Sir; and every Man's Grandfather, and every Man's Great Grandfather. Why, Sir, I'm a Herald by Nature, my Mother was a Welchwoman.
Esop. A Welchwoman? Pr'ythee of what Country is that?
Quaint. That, Sir, is a Country in the World's Backside, where every Man is born a Gentleman and a Genealogist. Sir, I cou'd tell my Mother's Pedigree before I could speak plain; which, to shew you the Depth of my Art, and the Strength of my Memory, I'll trundle you down in an instant. Noah had three Sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet; Shem——
Esop. Hold, I conjure thee, in the Name of all thy Ancestors.
Quaint. Sir, I cou'd take it higher, but I begin at Noah for brevity's sake.
Esop. No more on't, I intreat thee.