Enter Worthnought.
Worthnought. Ladies, J'ay bien de la joye de vous voir. I have the supernal and superlative hanor and felicity, of being most respectfully yours.
Cantwell. I hope I have the pleasure to see Mr. Worthnought well.
Worthnought. Là, Là, Mademoiselle; assez bien: Je vous suis obligé.—She has reviv'd her wither'd chaps with rouge in a very nasty manner, 'pan hanor. [Aside.]—Have you heard the news, respecting Miss Harriet Trueman, ladies?
Cantwell. Yes, now I think on 't, there is a report about town, that old Mr. Loveyet saw her and another rather familiar together.
Worthnought. Oh, you have not heard half, madam.
Cantwell. Do, let us hear, Mr. Worthnought.
Herald. Aye, do; but do not say anything that will hurt Miss Tabitha's delicacy; for, before you came in, I was complaining that I was barren of anything new, and she was almost ready to swoon at the expression.
Worthnought. If Miss Tabitha has such an antipathy to barrenness, she will not be offended at my subject, which is a very prolific one, I assure you; for Miss Trueman is on the verge of bearing a son.
Cantwell. Oh, horrid! What will this wicked world come to at last!—A good-for-nothing, wanton hussy.