_Lady Answ._ No, Madam; they say, ’tis melancholy Meat. _Lady Smart._ Then, Madam, shall I send you the Brains? I beg your Ladyship’s Pardon; for they say, ’tis not good Manners to offer Brains. _Lady Answ._ No, Madam; for perhaps it will make me hare-brain’d. _Neverout._ Miss, I must tell you one thing. _Miss_ [_with a Glass in her Hand._] Hold your Tongue, Mr. _Neverout_; don’t speak in my Tip. _Col._ Well, he was an ingenious Man, that first found out Eating and Drinking. _Ld. Sparkish._ Of all Vittles Drink digests the quickest: Give me a Glass of Wine. _Neverout._ My Lord, your Wine is too strong. _Ld. Smart._ Ay, _Tom_; as much as you are too good. _Miss._ This Almond Pudden was pure good; but it is grown quite cold. _Neverout._ So much the better, Miss; cold Pudden will settle your Love. _Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, are you going to take a Voyage? _Neverout._ Why do you ask, Miss? _Miss._ Because you have laid in so much Beef. _Sir John._ You Two have eat up the whole Pudden betwixt you. _Miss._ Sir _John_, here’s a little Bit left; will you please to have it? _Sir John._ No, thankee; I don’t love to make a Fool of my Mouth. _Col._ [_calling to the Butler._] _John_, is your Small Beer good? _Butler._ An please your Honour, my Lord and Lady like it; I think it is good. _Col._ Why then, _John_, d’yesee? if you are sure your Small Beer is good, d’yemark? Then, give me a Glass of Wine. [_All laugh._ [_Colonel tasting the Wine._ _Ld. Smart._ Sir _John_, how does your Neighbour _Gatherall_ of the _Peak_? I hear, he has lately made a Purchase. _Sir John._ Oh, _Dick Gatherall_ knows how to butter his Bread, as well as any Man in _Darbyshire_. _Ld. Smart._ Why, he us’d to go very fine, when he was here in Town. _Sir John._ Ay; and it became him, as a Saddle becomes a Sow. _Col._ I know his Lady, and I think she is a very good Woman. _Sir John._ Faith, she has more Goodness in her little Finger, than he has in his whole Body. _Ld. Smart._ Well, Colonel, how do you like that Wine? _Col._ This Wine should be eaten; it is too good to be drunk. _Ld. Smart._ I’m very glad you like it; and pray don’t spare it. _Col._ No, my Lord; I’ll never starve in a Cook’s Shop. _Ld. Smart._ And pray, Sir _John_, what do You say to my Wine? _Sir John._ I’ll take another Glass first; second Thoughts are best. _Ld. Sparkish._ Pray, Lady _Smart_, you sit near that Ham; will you please to send me a Bit? _Lady Smart._ With all my Heart. [_She sends him a Piece._] Pray, my Lord, how do you like it? _Ld. Sparkish._ I think it is a Limb of _Lot_’s Wife. [_He eats it with Mustard._] Egad, my Lord, your Mustard is very uncivil. _Ld. Smart._ Why uncivil, my Lord? _Ld. Sparkish._ Because it takes me by the Nose, egad. _Lady Smart._ Mr. _Neverout_, I find you are a very good Carver. _Col._ O Madam, that is no Wonder; for you must know, _Tom Neverout_ carves a _Sundays_. [Neverout _overturns the Salt-celler_.