[The Gentlemen come in to the Ladies to drink Tea.
Miss. Mr. Neverout, we wanted you sadly; you are always out of the Way when you should be hang’d.
Neverout. You wanted me! Pray, Miss, how do you look when you lye?
Miss. Better than you when you cry. Manners indeed! I find, you mend like sour Ale in Summer.
Neverout. I beg your Pardon, Miss; I only meant, when you lie alone.
Miss. That’s well turn’d; one Turn more would have turn’d you down Stairs.
Neverout. Come, Miss; be kind for once, and order me a Dish of Coffee.
Miss. Pray, go yourself; let us wear out the oldest first: Besides, I can’t go, for I have a Bone in my Leg.
Col. They say, a Woman need but look on her Apron-string to find an Excuse.
Neverout. Why, Miss, you are grown so peevish, a Dog would not live with you.