Plot. Gentlemen, how like you her wit?
Tim. Wit! I verily
Believe she was begotten by some wit;
And he that has her may beget plays on her.
New. Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.
Tim. Her house! 'tis able to find the court: if she
Be chaste to[213] all this wit, I do not think
But that she might be shown.
Bright. She speaks with salt,
And has a pretty scornfulness, which now
I've seen, I'm satisfied.
New. Come then away to Roseclap's.
Tim. Lead on; let us dine. This lady
Runs in my head still.
Enter a Footman.
Foot. Sir, my lady prays
You would dismiss your company; she has
Some business with you.
Plot. Gentlemen, walk softly; I'll overtake you.