Ld. Smart. Pray, Tom, change the Discourse; in Troth you are too bad.
Col. [whispers Neverout.] Smoke Miss; faith, you have made her fret like Gum Taffety.
Lady Smart. Well, but Miss; (hold your Tongue, Mr. Neverout) shall I cut you a Piece of Cheese?
Miss. No, really, Madam; I have dined this half Hour.
Lady Smart. What! quick at Meat, quick at Work, they say.
[Sir John nods.
Ld. Smart. What! are you sleepy, Sir John? do you sleep after Dinner?
Sir John. Yes, faith; I sometimes take a Nap after my Pipe; for when the Belly is full, the Bones will be at Rest.
Ld. Smart. Come, Colonel; help yourself, and your Friends will love you the better. [To Lady Answ.] Madam, your Ladyship eats nothing.