Lady Smart. Why, Wench, I think, thy Tongue runs upon Wheels this Morning: How came you by that Scratch on your Nose? Have you been fighting with the Cats?
Col. [to Miss.] Miss, When will you be married?
Miss. One of these Odd-come-shortly’s, Colonel.
Neverout. Yes; they say, the Match is half made, the Spark is willing, but Miss is not.
Miss. I suppose, the Gentleman has got his own Consent for it.
Lady Answ. Pray, My Lord, did you walk through the Park in this Rain?
Ld. Sparkish. Yes, Madam; we were neither Sugar nor Salt; we were not afraid the Rain would melt us. He, he, he. [Laugh.
Col. It rain’d, and the Sun shone at the same time.
Neverout. Why, then the Devil was beating his Wife behind the Door, with a Shoulder of Mutton. [——Laugh.——