Sir Pet. Yes, a good defence, truly.
Mrs. Can. Truly, Lady Teazle is as censorious as Miss Sallow.
Crab. Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be censorious—an awkward thing, without any one good point under the sun.
Mrs. Can. Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss Sallow is a near relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her person, great allowance is to be made; for, let me tell you, a woman labors under many disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl of six-and-thirty.
Lady Sneer. Though, surely, she is handsome still—and for the weakness in her eyes, considering how much she reads by candlelight, it is not to be wondered at.
Mrs. Can. True, and then as to her manner; upon my word I think it is particularly graceful, considering she never had the least education; for you know her mother was a Welsh milliner, and her father a sugar-baker at Bristol.
Sir Ben. Ah! you are both of you too good-natured!
Sir Pet. Yes, distressingly good-natured! This their own relation! Mercy on me!
[Aside.
Mrs. Can. For my part, I own I cannot bear to hear a friend ill-spoken of.
Sir Pet. No, to be sure!