"Sir P. Nay, but, madam, then you would not wear them; but try snowballs and icicles. But tell me, madam, how can you feel any satisfaction in wearing these, when you might reflect that one of the rose-buds would have furnished a poor family with a dinner?
"Lady T. Upon my word, Sir Peter, begging your pardon, that is a very absurd way of arguing. By that rule, why do you indulge in the least superfluity? I dare swear a beggar might dine tolerably on your great-coat, or sup off your laced waistcoat—nay, I dare say, he wouldn't eat your gold-headed cane in a week. Indeed, if you would reserve nothing but necessaries, you should give the first poor man you meet your wig, and walk the streets in your night-cap, which, you know, becomes you very much.
"Sir P. Well, go on to the articles.
"Jarv. (Reading.) 'Fruit for my lady's monkey, 5_l._ per week.'
"Sir P. Five pounds for a monkey!—why 'tis a dessert for an alderman!
"Lady T. Why, Sir Peter, would you starve the poor animal? I dare swear he lives as reasonably as other monkeys do.
"Sir P. Well, well, go on.
"Jarv. 'China for ditto'—
"Sir P. What, does he eat out of china?
"Lady T. Repairing china that he breaks—and I am sure no monkey breaks less.