[_The_ Butler _brings up the Tankard to_ Sir John. _Sir John._ Won’t your Ladyship please to drink first? _Lady Smart._ No, Sir _John_; ’tis in a very good Hand; I’ll pledge you. _Col._ [_to Ld. Smart._] My Lord, I love _October_ as well as Sir _John_; and I hope, you won’t make Fish of one, and Flesh of another. _Ld. Smart._ Colonel, you’re heartily welcome. Come, Sir _John_, take it by Word of Mouth, and then give it the Colonel. [Sir John _drinks_. _Ld. Smart._ Well, Sir _John_, how do you like it? _Sir John._ Not as well as my own in _Darbyshire_; ’tis plaguy small. _Lady Smart._ I never taste Malt Liquor; but they say, ’tis well hopt. _Sir John._ Hopt! why, if it had hopp’d a little further, it would have hopp’d into the River. O my Lord, my Ale is Meat, Drink and Cloth; it will make a Cat speak, and a wise Man dumb. _Lady Smart._ I was told, ours was very strong. _Sir John._ Ay, Madam, strong of the Water; I believe the Brewer forgot the Malt, or the River was too near him: Faith, it is mere Whip-Belly-Vengeance; he that drinks most has the worst Share. _Col._ I believe, Sir _John_, Ale is as Plenty as Water at your House. _Sir John._ Why, faith, at _Christmas_ we have many Comers and Goers; and they must not be sent away without a Cup of _Christmas_ Ale, for fear they should —— behind the Door. _Lady Smart._ I hear, Sir _John_ has the nicest Garden in _England_; they say, ’tis kept so clean, that you can’t find a Place where to spit. _Sir John._ O Madam; you are pleased to say so. _Lady Smart._ But, Sir _John_, your Ale is terrible strong and heady in _Derbyshire_, and will soon make one drunk and sick; what do you then? _Sir John._ Why, indeed, it is apt to fox one; but our Way is, to take a Hair of the same Dog next Morning.——I take a new-laid Egg for Breakfast; and, faith, one should drink as much after an Egg as after an Ox. _Ld. Smart._ _Tom Neverout_, will you taste a Glass of the _October_? _Neverout._ No, faith, my Lord; I like your Wine, and I won’t put a Churle upon a Gentleman; your Honour’s Claret is good enough for me. _Lady Smart._ What! is this Pigeon left for Manners? Colonel, shall I send you the Legs and Rump? _Col._ Madam, I could not eat a Bit more, if the House was full. _Ld. Smart_ [_carving a Partridge._] Well; one may ride to _Rumford_ upon this Knife, it is so blunt. _Lady Answ._ My Lord, I beg your Pardon; but they say, an ill Workman never had good Tools. _Ld. Smart._ Will your Lordship have a Wing of it? _Ld. Sparkish._ No, my Lord; I love the Wing of an Ox a great deal better. _Ld. Smart._ I’m always cold after Eating. _Col._ My Lord, they say, that’s a Sign of long Life. _Ld. Smart._ Ay; I believe I shall live till all my Friends are weary of me. _Col._ Pray, does any body here hate Cheese? I would be glad of a Bit.