_Man._ Her lawyers, attorneys, and solicitors, have fifteen hundred pounds a year, whilst she is contented to be poor, to make other people so. For she is as vexatious as her father was, the great attorney, nay, as a dozen Norfolk attorneys, and as implacable an adversary as a wife suing for alimony, or a parson for his tithes; and she loves an Easter term, or any term, not as other country ladies do, to come up to be fine, cuckold their husbands, and take their pleasure; for she has no pleasure but in vexing others, and is usually clothed and daggled[97] like a bawd in disguise, pursued through alleys by sergeants. When she is in town, she lodges in one of the inns of Chancery, where she breeds her son, and is herself his tutoress in law-French; and for her country abode, though she has no estate there, she chooses Norfolk.--But, bid her come in, with a pox to her! she is Olivia's kinswoman, and may make me amends for her visit, by some discourse of that dear woman. [_Exit_ Sailor. _Enter_ Widow BLACKACRE, _with a mantle and a green bag, and several papers in the other hand;_ JERRY BLACKACRE _in a gown, laden with green bags, following her._ _Wid._ I never had so much to do with a judge's door-keeper, as with yours; but-- _Man._ But the incomparable Olivia, how does she since I went? _Wid._ Since you went, my suit-- _Man._ Olivia, I say, is she well? _Wid._ My suit, if you had not returned-- _Man._ Damn your suit! how does your cousin Olivia? _Wid._ My suit, I say, had been quite lost; but now-- _Man._ But now, where is Olivia? in town? for-- _Wid._ For to-morrow we are to have a hearing. _Man._ Would you would let me have a hearing to-day! _Wid._ But why won't you hear me? _Man._ I am no judge, and you talk of nothing but suits; but, pray tell me, when did you see Olivia? _Wid._ I am no visitor, but a woman of business; or if I ever visit, 'tis only the Chancery-lane ladies, ladies towards the law; and not any of your lazy, good-for-nothing flirts, who cannot read law-French, though a gallant writ it. But as I was telling you, my suit-- _Man._ Damn these impertinent vexatious people of business, of all sexes! they are still troubling the world with the tedious recitals of their lawsuits: and one can no more stop their mouths than a wit's when he talks of himself, or an intelligencer's when he talks of other people. _Wid._ And a pox of all vexatious, impertinent lovers! they are still perplexing the world with the tedious narrations of their love-suits, and discourses of their mistresses! You are as troublesome to a poor widow of business, as a young coxcombly rhyming lover. _Man._ And thou art as troublesome to me, as a rook to a losing gamester, or a young putter of cases to his mistress or sempstress, who has love in her head for another.