Plot. What lady?
New. Hast not thou heard of the new-sprung lady?
Bright. One
That keeps her coachman, footboy, woman, and spends
A thousand pounds a year by wit.
Plot. How? wit!
New. That is her patrimony, sir. 'Tis thought
The fortune she is born to will not buy
A bunch of turnips.
Plot. She is no gamester, is she? Nor carries false dice?
Bright. No, but has a tongue,
Were't in a lawyer's mouth, would make him buy
All young heirs near him.
Plot. But does no man know from whence she came?
Bright. As for her birth, she may
Choose her own pedigree: it is unknown
Whether she be descended of some ditch
Or duchess.
New. She's the wonder of the court
And talk o' th' town.