_Neverout._ Why, then, Miss, if you go to that, I must tell you, there’s ne’er a Jack but there’s a Jill. _Miss._ Oh! Mr. _Neverout_; every body knows that you are the Pink of Courtesy. _Neverout._ And, Miss, all the World allows, that you are the Flower of Civility. _Lady Smart._ Miss, I hear there was a great deal of Company where you visited last Night: Pray, who were they? _Miss._ Why, there was old Lady _Forward_, Miss _To-and-again_, Sir _John Ogle_, my Lady _Clapper_, and I, quoth the Dog. _Col._ Was your Visit long, Miss? _Miss._ Why, truly, they went all to the Opera; and so poor Pilgarlick came Home alone. _Neverout._ Alack a day, poor Miss! methinks it grieves me to pity you. _Miss._ What, you think, you said a fine Thing now; well, if I had a Dog with no more Wit, I would hang him. _Ld. Smart._ Miss, if it be Manners, may I ask, which is oldest, you or Lady _Scuttle_? _Miss._ Why, my Lord, when I die for Age, she may quake for Fear. _Lady Smart._ She’s a very great Gadder abroad. _Lady Answ._ Lord! she made me follow her last Week through all the Shops like a Tantiny Pig. _Lady Smart._ I remember, you told me, you had been with her from _Dan_ to _Beersheba_. [——Colonel _spits_.—— _Col._ Lord! I shall die; I cannot spit from me. _Miss._ Oh! Mr. _Neverout_, my little Countess has just litter’d; speak me fair, and I’ll set you down for a Puppy. _Neverout._ Why, Miss, if I speak you fair, perhaps I mayn’t tell Truth. _Ld. Sparkish._ Ay, but _Tom_, smoke that, she calls you Puppy by Craft. _Neverout._ Well, Miss, you ride the Fore-horse To-day. _Miss._ Ay, many a one says well, that thinks ill. _Neverout._ Fie, Miss! you said that once before; and, you know, Too much of one Thing is good for nothing. _Miss._ Why, sure, we can’t say a good Thing too often. _Ld. Sparkish._ Well, so much for that, and Butter for Fish; let us call another Cause: Pray, Madam, does your Ladyship know Mrs. _Nice_? _Lady Smart._ Perfectly well, my Lord; she’s nice by Name, and nice by Nature. _Ld. Sparkish._ Is it possible, she could take that Booby _Tom Blunder_ for Love? _Miss._ She had good Skill in Horse-flesh, that could chuse a Goose to ride on. _Lady Answ._ Why, my Lord, ’twas her Fate; they say, Marriage and Hanging go by Destiny. _Col._ I believe she’ll never be burnt for a Witch. _Ld. Sparkish._ They say, Marriages are made in Heaven; but I doubt, when she was married, she had no Friend there. _Neverout._ Well, she’s got out of God’s Blessing into the warm Sun. _Col._ The Fellow’s well enough, if he had any Guts in his Brains. _Lady Smart._ They say, thereby hangs a Tale. _Ld. Sparkish._ Why, he’s a mere Hobbledehoy, neither a Man nor a Boy. _Miss._ Well, if I were to chuse a Husband, I would never be married to a little Man. _Neverout._ Pray, why so, Miss? for they say, of all Evils we ought to chuse the least. _Miss._ Because Folks would say, when they saw us together, There goes the Woman and her Husband.