_Lady Answ._ Well, Miss, I can’t help it; you know, I am old Tell-Truth; I love to call a Spade a Spade. _Lady Smart_ [_mistakes the Tea-tongs for the Spoon._] What! I think my Wits are a Wool-gathering To-day. _Miss._ Why, Madam, there was but a Right and a Wrong. _Lady Smart._ Miss, I hear, that You and Lady _Coupler_ are as great as Cup and Can. _Lady Answ._ Ay, Miss; as great as the Devil and the Earl of _Kent_. _Lady Smart._ Nay, I am told, you meet together with as much Love, as there is between the old Cow and the Hay-stack. _Miss._ I own, I love her very well; but there’s Difference betwixt staring and stark mad. _Lady Smart._ They say, she begins to grow fat. _Miss._ Fat! ay, fat as a Hen in the Forehead. _Lady Smart._ Indeed, Lady _Answerall_, (pray, forgive me) I think, your Ladyship looks thinner than when I saw you last. _Miss._ Indeed, Madam, I think not; but your Ladyship is one of _Job_’s Comforters. _Lady Answ._ Well, no matter how I look; I am bought and sold: but really, Miss, you are so very obliging, that I wish I were a handsome young Lord for your Sake. _Miss._ O Madam, your Love’s a Million. _Lady Smart_ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, will your Ladyship let me wait on you to the Play To-morrow? _Lady Answ._ Madam, it becomes me to wait on your Ladyship. _Miss._ What, then, I’m turn’d out for a Wrangler. [_The Gentlemen come in to the Ladies to drink Tea._ _Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_, we wanted you sadly; you are always out of the Way when you should be hang’d. _Neverout._ You wanted me! Pray, Miss, how do you look when you lye? _Miss._ Better than you when you cry. Manners indeed! I find, you mend like sour Ale in Summer. _Neverout._ I beg your Pardon, Miss; I only meant, when you lie alone. _Miss._ That’s well turn’d; one Turn more would have turn’d you down Stairs. _Neverout._ Come, Miss; be kind for once, and order me a Dish of Coffee. _Miss._ Pray, go yourself; let us wear out the oldest first: Besides, I can’t go, for I have a Bone in my Leg. _Col._ They say, a Woman need but look on her Apron-string to find an Excuse. _Neverout._ Why, Miss, you are grown so peevish, a Dog would not live with you. _Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_, I beg your Diversion; no Offence, I hope: but truly in a little time you intend to make the Colonel as bad as yourself; and that’s as bad as bad can. _Neverout._ My Lord, don’t you think Miss improves wonderfully of late? Why, Miss, if I spoil the Colonel, I hope you will use him as you do me; for, you know, love me, love my Dog. _Col._ How’s that, _Tom_? Say that again: Why, if I am a Dog, shake Hands, Brother. [_Here a great, loud, long Laugh._ _Ld. Smart._ But, pray, Gentlemen, why always so severe upon poor Miss? On my Conscience, Colonel and _Tom Neverout_, one of you two are both Knaves. _Col._ My Lady _Answerall_, I intend to do myself the Honour of dining with your Ladyship To-morrow. _Lady Answ._ Ay, Colonel; do if you can.