_Lady Teaz._ Yes, and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor laughing (which very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her mouth, but leaves it always on a-jar, as it were--thus. [_Shows her teeth._ _Mrs. Can._ How can you be so ill-natured? _Lady Teaz._ Nay, I allow even that's better than the pains Mrs. Prim takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a poor's-box, and all her words appear to slide out edgewise as it were--thus: _How do you do, madam? Yes, madam._ [_Mimics._ _Lady Sneer._ Very well, Lady Teazle; I see you can be a little severe. _Lady Teaz._ In defence of a friend it is but justice. But here comes Sir Peter to spoil our pleasantry. _Enter_ SIR PETER TEAZLE. _Sir Pet._ Ladies, your most obedient.--[_Aside,_] Mercy on me, here is the whole set! a character dead at every word, I suppose. _Mrs. Can._ I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter. They have been so censorious--and Lady Teazle as bad as any one. _Sir Pet._ That must be very distressing to you, indeed, Mrs. Candour. _Mrs. Can._ Oh, they will allow good qualities to nobody: not even good nature to our friend Mrs. Pursy. _Lady Teaz._ What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs. Quadrille's last night? _Mrs. Can._ Nay, her bulk is her misfortune; and, when she takes so much pains to get rid of it, you ought not to reflect on her. _Lady Sneer._ That's very true, indeed. _Lady Teaz._ Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey; laces herself by pulleys; and often, in the hottest noon in summer, you may see her on a little squat pony, with her hair plaited up behind like a drummer's, and puffing round the ring on a full trot. _Mrs. Can._ I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her. _Sir Pet._ Yes, a good defence, truly. _Mrs. Can._ Truly, Lady Teazle is as censorious as Miss Sallow. _Crab._ Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be censorious--an awkward thing, without any one good point under the sun. _Mrs. Can._ Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss Sallow is a near relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her person, great allowance is to be made; for, let me tell you, a woman labors under many disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl of six-and-thirty. _Lady Sneer._ Though, surely, she is handsome still--and for the weakness in her eyes, considering how much she reads by candlelight, it is not to be wondered at. _Mrs. Can._ True, and then as to her manner; upon my word I think it is particularly graceful, considering she never had the least education; for you know her mother was a Welsh milliner, and her father a sugar-baker at Bristol. _Sir Ben._ Ah! you are both of you too good-natured! _Sir Pet._ Yes, distressingly good-natured! This their own relation! Mercy on me! [_Aside._ _Mrs. Can._ For my part, I own I cannot bear to hear a friend ill-spoken of. _Sir Pet._ No, to be sure!