Dap. Unmerciful Lady Flippant!
L. Flip. Will you be satisfied?
Dap. Won't you be satisfied?
L. Flip. That a wit should be jealous; that a wit should be jealous! there's never a brisk young fellow in the town, though no wit, Heaven knows, but thinks too well of himself, to think ill of his wife or mistress. Now, that a wit should lessen his opinion of himself;—for shame!
Dap. I promised to bring you off, but I find it enough to shift for myself—[Softly, apart to Ranger.
Lyd. What! out of breath, madam!
L. Flip. I have been defending our cause, madam; I have beat him out of the pit. I do so mumble these prating, censorious fellows they call wits, when I meet with them.
Dap. Her ladyship, indeed, is the only thing in petticoats I dread. 'Twas well for me there was company in the room; for I dare no more venture myself with her alone, than a cully that has been bit dares venture himself in a tavern with an old rook.
L. Flip. I am the revenger of our sex, certainly.