L. Rod. So well wrought, it may serve one in a Family for twenty
Generations.—Have you sold any Wedding Suits lately?
Mer. Yes, Madam, I sold a yellow and white Damask, lin'd with a Cherry and blew Sattin, and a Goslin green Petticoat to Mrs. Winifred Widgeon i'the Peak, that marry'd Squire Hog o' Darby,—'twas her Grandmother Trott's Fancy.
L. Rod. Nay, those old Governants, that were Dames of Honour to Queen Bess, make their Daughters appear as monstrous in this Age, as they themselves did in that.—Well, Mr. Farendine, when you have any thing slight and pretty, let me see it. [To the Manto-Maker] Mrs. Flounce, this Sleeve is most abominably cut.
Mant. Mak. Madam, 'tis exacly the Shape of my Lady Snipe's, and she s allow'd to be the Pink o'the Mode.
L. Rod. My Lady Snipe, who ever heard of her?
Mrs. Lov. Oh! Madam, that's the over-dress'd Lady in Fuller's Rents, the first in England, that wore Flow'rs in her Hair; She has 5000_l._ indeed, but they say 'tis in bad Hands, and the Town has neglected her these ten Years.
L. Rod. And wou'd you have me appear like a Turn-stile Creature? why d'you work for such Trumpery? have you not Business enough from Court.
Mant. Mak. Truly, Madam, I'm glad to accept of a Gown from any Body; for the Ladies, now-a-days, are grown so saving, they make all their Petticoats themselves.
L. Rod. Don't you work into the City too?
Mant. Mak. Yes, Madam, I have eleven Gowns to finish against Sunday, for very good Customers, and very religious People.