The party-coloured one came up to me: "Friend," said she, "there is something in thy person that attracts every one's notice: but if a sack had not been a profane thing, it would have become thee almost as well."—"I thank thee, friend," said I, "for thy counsel; but if thou hadst been pleased to look at home, thou wouldst not have taken so much pains to join such advice, and such an appearance, together, as thou makest!"
This made every one that heard it laugh.—One said, the butterfly hath met with her match.
She returned, with an affected laugh, "Smartly said!—But art thou come hither, friend, to make thy light shine before men or women?"
"Verily, friend, neither," replied I: "but out of mere curiosity, to look into the minds of both sexes; which I read in their dresses."
"A general satire on the assemblée, by the mass!" said a fat Monk.
The Nun whisked to us: "We're all concerned in my friend's remark."—
"And no disgrace to a fair Nun," returned I, "if her behaviour answer her dress—Nor to a reverend Friar," turning to the Monk, "if his mind be not a discredit to his appearance—Nor yet to a Country-girl," turning to the party-coloured lady's companion, "if she has not weeds in her heart to disgrace the flowers on her head."
An odd figure, representing a Merry Andrew, took my hand, and said, I had the most piquant wit he had met with that night: "And, friend," said he, "let us be better acquainted!"
"Forbear," said I, withdrawing my hand; "not a companion for a
Jack-pudding, neither!"
A Roman Senator just then accosted Miss Darnford; and Mr. B. seeing me so much engaged, "'Twere hard," said he, "if our nation, in spite of Cervantes, produced not one cavalier to protect a fair lady thus surrounded."