Neverout. Miss Notable, all Quarrels laid aside, pray, step hither for a Moment.
Miss. I’ll wash my Hands, and wait on you, Sir; but, pray, come hither, and try to open this Lock.
Neverout. We’ll try what we can do.
Miss. We:——What, have you Pigs in your Belly?
Neverout. Miss, I assure you, I am very handy at all Things.
Miss. Marry, hang them that can’t give themselves a good Word: I believe, you may have an even Hand to throw a L—— in the Fire.
Col. Well, I must be plain; here’s a very bad Smell.
Miss. Perhaps, Colonel, the Fox is the Finder.
Neverout. No, Colonel; ’tis only your Teeth against Rain: But——
Miss. Colonel, I find, you would make a very bad poor Man’s Sow.