Lady Answ. Why, Miss, they say, good Wits jump.
Neverout. Faith, Madam, I had rather marry a Woman I lov’d, in her Smock, than Widow Prim, if she had her Weight in Gold.
Lady Smart. Come, come, Mr. Neverout; Marriage is honourable, but Housekeeping is a Shrew.
Lady Answ. Consider, Mr. Neverout, Four bare Legs in a Bed; and you are a younger Brother.
Col. Well, Madam; the younger Brother is the better Gentleman: However, Tom, I would advise you to look before you leap.
Ld. Sparkish. The Colonel says true: Besides, you can’t expect to wive and thrive in the same Year.
Miss. [shuddering.] Lord! there’s somebody walking over my Grave.
Col. Pray, Lady Answerall, where was you last Wednesday, when I did myself the Honour to wait on you? I think, your Ladyship is one of the Tribe of Gad.
Lady Answ. Why, Colonel, I was at Church.