What would she say, if she visited the great families I do? For tho' I am as I may say but a commoner, no private gentlewoman's gentlewoman, has a more prettier set of acquaintance. JACK. Well but-- BETTY. My routs indeed!--There is Mrs. Allspice, who lives with lady Cicily Sequence, has six tables every Sunday, besides looers, and braggers; and moreover proposes giving a masquerade, the beginning of June, and I intends being there. JACK. Well, but to talk calmly. BETTY. And as Miss is so fond of fetching and carrying, you may tell her we are to have a private play among ourselves, as the quality have: the _Distrustful_ Mother, 'tis call'd--Pylades, by Mr. Thomas, Lord Catastrophe's butler--Hermione, Mrs. Allspice; and I shall do Andromache myself. JACK. A play! lord, Mrs. Betty, will you give me a ticket? BETTY. All's one for that--and so you may tell Miss that--[_bell rings_] coming, Madam, this minute--and that, Mr. John, is the long and the short on't. [_Bell rings again._] Lord, I am coming--[_Exit._ _Enter_ WOODFORD _to_ JACK. WOODFORD. What's the matter? JACK. Here, Betty, my mother's fac totum, has just discover'd your haunts; and is gone to lay an information against you--so depend upon it, a search warrant will issue directly. WOODFORD. Stay but a moment, till I take leave of your sister. JACK. Zooks! I tell you the constables will be here in a trice, so you have not a moment to lose. WOODFORD. How unlucky this is! JACK. But I hope you have obtain'd a verdict however. WOODFORD. No. JACK. No! WOODFORD. It would not have been decent, to have press'd the judge too soon for a sentence. JACK. Soon!--You are a ninny, I tell you so:--here you will suffer judgment to go by default.--You are a pretty practitioner indeed! WOODFORD. This, you may know, my dear Jack, is an equity case; I have but just fil'd my bill; one must give the parties time to put in an answer. JACK. Time!--How you may come off in court I can't tell, but you will turn out but a poor chamber counsel I fear.--Well, come along, perhaps I may be able to procure another hearing before it is--but lord o'mercy! there is father crossing the hall--should he see us all's over--we have nothing for't but taking shelter with sister. [_Exeunt._ ACT III. _Sir_ LUKE LIMP, _Mrs._ CIRCUIT, _Colonel_ SECRET, _and Mrs._ SIMPER, _discover'd at a table, with a collation before them_. Mrs. CIRCUIT. Oh! by the bye, Sir Luke--take some of these sweetmeats, my dear [_to Mrs._ Simper]--did not you promise to introduce to me that little agreeable piece of imperfection that belongs to the opera?--Colonel, won't you taste the champaign? Sir LUKE. Who, Signior _Piano_?--Let me assist Mrs. Simper.--Why, Madam, I made an attempt; but at present--shan't I send you a biscuit?--he is in the possession of a certain lady, who never suffers him out of her sight for a moment. Mrs. SIMPER. Oh! the curmudgeon!--I am vastly fond of these custards. Sir LUKE.