Ld. Smart. I’m always cold after Eating.
Col. My Lord, they say, that’s a Sign of long Life.
Ld. Smart. Ay; I believe I shall live till all my Friends are weary of me.
Col. Pray, does any body here hate Cheese? I would be glad of a Bit.
Ld. Smart. An odd kind of Fellow dined with me t’other Day; and when the Cheese came upon the Table, he pretended to faint; so somebody said, Pray, take away the Cheese; No, said I; pray, take away the Fool: Said I well?
[Here a large and loud Laugh.
Col. Faith, my Lord, you serv’d the Coxcomb right enough; and therefore I wish we had a Bit of your Lordship’s Oxfordshire Cheese.
Ld. Smart. Come, hang Saving; bring us a Halfporth of Cheese.
Lady Answ. They say, Cheese digests every thing but itself.
[A Footman brings a great whole Cheese.