Lady Smart. Why, there was all the World, and his Wife; there was Mrs. Clatter, Lady Singular, the Countess of Talkham, (I should have named her first;) Tom Goslin, and some others, whom I have forgot.
Lady Answ. I think the Countess is very sickly.
Lady Smart. Yes, Madam; she’ll never scratch a grey Head, I promise her.
Miss. And, pray, what was your Conversation?
Lady Smart. Why, Mrs. Clatter had all the Talk to herself, and was perpetually complaining of her Misfortunes.
Lady Answ. She brought her Husband Ten Thousand Pounds; she has a Town-House and Country-house: Would the Woman have her —— hung with Points?
Lady Smart. She would fain be at the Top of the House before the Stairs are built.
Miss. Well, Comparisons are odious; but she’s as like her Husband, as if she were spit out of his Mouth; as like as one Egg is to another: Pray, how was she drest?
Lady Smart. Why, she was as fine as Fi’pence; but, truly, I thought, there was more Cost than Worship.
Lady Answ. I don’t know her Husband: Pray, what is he?