_1st La._ But, madam,[27] don't you hear what the town says of the jilt Flirt the men liked so much in the Park? Hark ye--was seen with him in an Hackney-coach--and silk stockings--key-hole--his wig--on the chair----[_Whispers by interruptions._ _2nd La._ Impudent Flirt, to be found out! _3rd La._ But I speak it only to you---- _4th La._ Nor I but to one more----[_Whispers next woman._ _5th La._ I can't believe it; nay, I always thought it, madam----[_Whispers the_ WIDOW. _Wid._ Sure, 'tis impossible! the demure, prim thing! Sure all the world's hypocrisy. Well, I thank my stars, whatsoever sufferings I have, I've none in reputation. I wonder at the men; I could never think her handsome. She has really a good shape and complexion, but no mien; and no woman has the use of her beauty without mien! Her charms are dumb, they want utterance. But whither does distraction lead me--to talk of charms? _1st La._ Charms? A chit's, a girl's charms. Come, let us widows be true to ourselves, keep our countenances and our characters, and a fig for the maids--I mean for the unmarried. _2nd La._ Ay, since they will set up for our knowledge, why should not we for their ignorance? _3rd La._ But, madam, on Sunday morning at church I curtsied to you, and looked at a great fuss in a glaring light dress next pew. That strong masculine thing is a knight's wife, pretends to all the tenderness in the world, and would fain put the unwieldy upon us for the soft, the languid! She has of a sudden left her dairy, and sets up for a fine town-lady, calls her maid Sisly her woman, speaks to her by her surname, Mrs. Cherryfist, and her great foot-boy of nineteen, big enough for a trooper, is striped into a lace coat, now Mr. Page forsooth. _4th La._ Oh! I have seen her. Well, I heartily pity some people for their wealth, they might have been unknown else! You'd die, madam, to see her and her equipage. I thought the honest fat tits, her horses, were ashamed of their finery; they dragged on as if they were still at the plough, and a great bashful-looked booby behind grasped the coach as if he held one. _5th La._ Alas! some people think there's nothing but being fine to be genteel; but the high prance of the horses, and the brisk insolence of the servants in an equipage of quality, are inimitable, but to our own beasts and servants. _1st La._ Now you talk of equipage, I envy this lady the beauty she'll appear in in a mourning coach, 'twill so become her complexion; I confess I myself mourned two years for no other reason. Take up that hood there; Oh! that fair face with a veil. [_They take up her hoods._ _Wid._ Fie, fie, ladies. But I've been told, indeed, black does become-- _2nd La._ Well, I'll take the liberty to speak it, there's young Nutbrain has long had (I'll be sworn) a passion for this lady; but I'll tell you one thing I fear she'll dislike, that is, he's younger than she is.