_Miss._ What! you don’t know your own Mind; you are neither well, full nor fasting; I think that is enough. _Neverout._ Ay, one of the Enough’s; I am sure it is little enough. _Miss._ Yes; but you know, sweet Things are bad for the Teeth. _Neverout_ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, I don’t like that Part of the Veal you sent me. _Lady Answ._ Well, Mr. _Neverout_, I find you are a true _Englishman_; you never know when you are well. _Col._ Well, I have made my whole Dinner of Beef. _Lady Answ._ Why, Colonel, a Belly-full’s a Belly-full, if it be but of Wheat-straw. _Col._ Well, after all, Kitchen-Physic is the best Physic. _Ld. Smart._ And the best Doctors in the World are Doctor _Dyet_, Doctor _Quiet_, and Doctor _Merryman_. _Ld. Sparkish._ What do you think of a little House well fill’d? _Sir John._ And a little Land well till’d? _Col._ Ay; and a little Wife well will’d? _Neverout._ My Lady _Smart_, pray help me to some of the Breast of that Goose. _Ld. Smart._ _Tom_, I have heard, that Goose upon Goose is false Heraldry. _Miss._ What! will you never have done stuffing? _Ld. Smart._ This Goose is quite raw: Well, God sends Meat, but the Devil sends Cooks. _Neverout._ Miss, can you tell which is the white Goose, or the gray Goose the Gander? _Miss._ They say, a Fool will ask more Questions than the wisest body can answer. _Col._ Indeed, Miss, _Tom Neverout_ has posed you. _Miss._ Why, Colonel, every Dog has his Day; but, I believe, I shall never see a Goose again without thinking on Mr. _Neverout_. _Ld. Smart._ Well said, Miss; faith. Girl, thou hast brought thyself off cleverly. _Tom_, what say you to that? _Col._ Faith, _Tom_ is nonplust; he looks plaguily down in the Mouth. _Miss._ Why, my Lord, you see he is the provokingest Creature in Life; I believe there is not such another in the varsal World. _Lady Answ._ Oh, Miss! the World’s a wide Place. _Neverout._ Well, Miss, I’ll give you Leave to call me any thing, if you don’t call me Spade. _Ld. Smart._ Well, but, after all, _Tom_, can you tell me what’s _Latin_ for a Goose. _Neverout._ O my Lord, I know that; why _Brandy_ is _Latin_ for a Goose, and _Tace_ is _Latin_ for a Candle. _Miss._ Is that Manners, to shew your Learning before Ladies? Methinks you are grown very brisk of a sudden; I think the Man’s glad he’s alive. _Sir John._ The Devil take your Wit, if this be Wit; for it spoils Company: Pray, Mr. _Butler_, bring me a Dram after my Goose; ’tis very good for the Wholsoms. _Ld. Smart._ Come, bring me the Loaf; I sometimes love to cut my own Bread. _Miss._ I suppose, my Lord, you lay longest a Bed To-day. _Ld. Smart._ Miss, if I had said so, I should have told a Fib; I warrant you lay a Bed till the Cows came Home: But, Miss, shall I cut you a little Crust now my Hand is in? _Miss._ If you please, my Lord, a Bit of Under-crust. _Neverout._ [_whispering Miss._] I find, you love to lie under.