Jenny. Yes, indeed, Papa, and that would hardly do neither—There's th' account.
Sir Fran. [Turning over the bills.] Let's see! let's see! what the devil have we got here?
| Man. Then you have sounded your aunt you say, and she readily comes into all I propos'd to you? | Apart. |
| Myr. Sir, I'll answer, with my life, she is most thankfully yours in every article: she mightily desires to see you, Sir. | |
| Man. I am going home directly; bring her to my house in half an hour; and if she makes good what you tell me, you shall both find your account in it. | |
| Myr. She shall not fail you. |
Sir Fran. Ods-life, Madam, here's nothing but toys and trinkets, and fans, and clock stockings, by whole-sale.
Lady Wrong. There's nothing but what's proper, and for your credit, Sir Francis——Nay you see I am so good a housewife, that in necessaries for myself I have scarce laid out a shilling.
Sir Fran. No, by my troth, so it seems; for the devil o' one thing's here, that I can see you have any occasion for!
Lady Wrong. My dear! do you think I came hither to live out of the fashion? why, the greatest distinction of a fine lady in this town is in the variety of pretty things she has no occasion for.
Jenny. Sure, Papa, could you imagine, that women of quality wanted nothing but stays and petticoats?
Lady Wrong. Now, that is so like him!