Husband. Sometimes: there is no general rule without an exception; I could name some very good women—
Wife. Without the head, I suppose.
Husband. With a head, and with a heart too.
Wife. That’s a wonder!
Husband. It would be still greater if I could not; for instance, there is Mrs Dawson, the best of wives; always at home, whenever you call, always in good humour, always neat and clean, sober and discreet.
Wife. I wish you were tied to her. Always at home! the greatest gossiper in the parish; she may well smile, she has nothing to ruffle her temper; neat and clean—she has nothing else to do;—sober—she can take a glass as well as her neighbours; discreet—that’s another word, she can tip a wink: but I detest scandal; I am surprised you didn’t say she was handsome?
Husband. So she is, in my eye.
Wife. You have a fine eye, to be sure; you’re an excellent judge of beauty; what do you think of her nose?
Husband. She’s a fine woman in spite of her nose.
Wife. Fine feathers make fine birds; she can paint her withered cheeks, and pencil her eyebrows.