Sad. Why, who had the power to hinder, then?
Capt. I know not where the fault lies directly: they say the wits of the town would not consent to't; they claim a right in the ladies as orphan wits.
Con. The wits! hang 'em in their strong lines.
Capt. Why, ay, such a clinch as that has undone you, and upon my knowledge 'twere enough to hinder your next match.
Sad. Why, what have they to do with us?
Capt. I know not what you have done to disoblige them, but they crossed it: there was amongst 'em too a pair of she-wits, something stricken in years; they grew in fury at the mention of it, and concluded you both with an authority out of a modern author: besides, 'tis said you run naturally into the sixpenny-room, and steal sayings, and a discourse more than your pennyworth of jests every term. Why, just now you spit out one jest stolen from a poor play, that has but two more in five acts; what conscience is there in't, knowing how dear we pay poets for our plays?
Con. 'Twas madam with the ill face, one of those whom you refused to salute the other day at Chipp's house: a cheesecake had saved all this.
Love. Why do you not make haste about your business, but lose time with this babbler?
Sad. Madam, will you give us leave to make use of your coach?
Love. You may command it, sir: when you have done, send him to the Exchange, where I'll despatch a little business, and be with you immediately.