Ld. Sparkish. My Lady Smart, your Ladyship has a very fine Scarf.
Lady Smart. Yes, my Lord; it will make a flaming Figure in a Country Church.
[Footman comes in.
Footman. Madam, Dinner’s upon the Table.
Col. Faith, I’m glad of it; my Belly began to cry Cupboard.
Neverout. I wish I may never hear worse News.
Miss. What! Mr. Neverout, you are in great Haste; I believe, your Belly thinks your Throat’s cut.
Neverout. No, faith, Miss; Three Meals a Day, and a good Supper at Night, will serve my Turn.
Miss. To say the Truth, I’m hungry.