[_A Child comes in screaming._ _Miss._ Well, if that Child was mine, I’d whip it till the Blood came; Peace, you little Vixen! if I were near you, I would not be far from you. _Lady Smart._ Ay, ay; Batchelors Wives and Maids Children are finely tutor’d. _Lady Answ._ Come to me, Master; and I’ll give you a Sugar-Plumb. Why, Miss, you forgot that ever you was a Child yourself. [_She gives the Child a Lump of Sugar._] I have heard ’em say, Boys will long. _Col._ My Lord, I suppose you know, that Mr. _Buzzard_ has married again? _Lady Smart._ This is his Fourth Wife; then he has been shod round. _Col._ Why, you must know, she had a Month’s Mind to _Dick Frontless_, and thought to run away with him; but her Parents forc’d her to take the old Fellow for a good Settlement. _Ld. Sparkish._ So the Man got his Mare again. _Ld. Smart._ I’m told he said a very good thing to _Dick_; said he, You think us old Fellows are Fools; but we old Fellows know young Fellows are Fools. _Col._ I know nothing of that; but I know, he’s devilish old, and she’s very young. _Lady Answ._ Why, they call that a Match of the World’s making. _Miss._ What if he had been young, and she old? _Neverout._ Why, Miss, that would have been a Match of the Devil’s making; but when both are young, that’s a Match of God’s making. [Miss _searching her Pockets for her Thimble, brings out a Nutmeg_. _Neverout._ Oh! Miss, have a Care; for if you carry a Nutmeg in your Pocket, you’ll certainly be marry’d to an old Man. _Miss._ Well, and if ever I be marry’d, it shall be to an old Man; they always make the best Husbands; and it is better to be an old Man’s Darling than a young Man’s Warling. _Neverout._ Faith, Miss, if you speak as you think, I’ll give you my Mother for a Maid. [_Lady_ Smart _rings the Bell_. Footman _comes in_. _Lady Smart._ Harkee, you Fellow; run to my Lady _Match_, and desire she will remember to be here at Six, to play at Quadrille: D’ye hear, if you fall by the Way, don’t stay to get up again. _Footman._ Madam, I don’t know the House. _Lady Smart._ Well, that’s not for Want of Ignorance; follow your Nose; go, enquire among the Servants. [Footman _goes out, and leaves the Door open_. _Lady Smart._ Here, come back, you Fellow; why did you leave the Door open? Remember, that a good Servant must always come when he’s call’d, do what he’s bid, and shut the Door after him. [_The_ Footman _goes out again, and falls down Stairs_. _Lady Answ._ Neck or nothing; come down, or I’ll fetch you down: Well, but I hope, the poor Fellow has not sav’d the Hangman a Labour. _Neverout._ Pray, Madam, smoke Miss yonder biting her Lips, and playing with her Fan. _Miss._ Who’s that takes my Name in vain? [_She runs up to them, and falls down._ _Lady Smart._ What, more falling! do you intend the Frolick should go round? _Lady Answ._ Why, Miss, I wish you may not have broke her Ladyship’s Floor.