Miss. aloud [pushing him from her.] What does the Man mean! Sir, I don’t understand you at all.
Neverout. Come, all Quarrels laid aside: Here, Miss, may you live a thousand Years.
[He drinks to her.
Miss. Pray, Sir, don’t stint me.
Ld. Smart. Sir John, will you taste my October? I think it is very good; but I believe not equal to yours in Darbyshire.
Sir John. My Lord, I beg your Pardon; but they say, the Devil made Askers.
Ld. Smart. [to the Butler.] Here, bring up the great Tankard full of October for Sir John.
Col. [drinking to Miss.] Miss, your Health; may you live all the Days of your Life.
Lady Answ. Well, Miss, you’ll certainly be soon marry’d; here’s Two Batchelors drinking to you at once.
Lady Smart. Indeed, Miss, I believe you were wrapt in your Mother’s Smock, you are so well belov’d.