_Mrs. Joyn._ Nay, sweet sir, you are-- _Gripe._ Nay, sweet Mrs. Joyner, you are-- _Mrs. Joyn._ Nay, good your worship, you are--[_Stops her mouth with his handkerchief._ _Gripe._ I say you are-- _Mrs. Joyn._ I must not be rude with your worship. _Gripe._ You are a nursing mother to the saints; through you they gather together; through you they fructify and increase; and through you the child cries from out of the hand-basket. _Mrs. Joyn._ Through you virgins are married, or provided for as well; through you the reprobate's wife is made a saint; and through you the widow is not disconsolate, nor misses her husband. _Gripe._ Through you-- _Mrs. Joyn._ Indeed you will put me to the blush. _Gripe._ Blushes are badges of imperfection:--saints have no shame. You are--are the flower of matrons, Mrs. Joyner. _Mrs. Joyn._ You are the pink of courteous aldermen. _Gripe._ You are the muffler of secrecy. _Mrs. Joyn._ You are the head-band of justice. _Gripe._ Thank you, sweet Mrs. Joyner: do you think so indeed? You are--you are the bonfire of devotion. _Mrs. Joyn._ You are the bellows of zeal. _Gripe._ You are the cupboard of charity. _Mrs. Joyn._ You are the fob of liberality. _Gripe._ You are the rivet of sanctified love or wedlock. _Mrs. Joyn._ You are the picklock and dark-lantern of policy; and, in a word, a conventicle of virtues. _Gripe._ Your servant, your servant, sweet Mrs. Joyner! you have stopped my mouth. _Mrs. Joyn._ Your servant, your servant, sweet alderman! I have nothing to say. _Sir Sim._ The half pullet will be cold, sir. _Gripe._ Mrs. Joyner, you shall sup with me. _Mrs. Joyn._ Indeed I am engaged to supper with some of your man's friends; and I came on purpose to get leave for him too. _Gripe._ I cannot deny you anything. But I have forgot to tell you what a kind of fellow my sister's Dapperwit is: before a full table of the coffee-house sages, he had the impudence to hold an argument against me in the defence of vests and protections; and therefore I forbid him my house; besides, when he came I was forced to lock up my daughter for fear of him, nay, I think the poor child herself was afraid of him.--Come hither, child, were you not afraid of Dapperwit? _Mrs. Mar._ Yes indeed, sir, he is a terrible man.--Yet I durst meet with him in a piazza at midnight. [_Aside._ _Gripe._ He shall never come into my doors again. _Mrs. Mar._ Shall Mr. Dapperwit never come hither again then? _Gripe._ No, child. _Mrs. Mar._ I am afraid he will. _Gripe._ I warrant thee. _Mrs. Mar._ [_Aside._] I warrant you then I'll go to him.--I am glad of that, for I hate him as much as a bishop. _Gripe._ Thou art no child of mine, if thou dost not hate bishops and wits.--Well, Mrs. Joyner, I'll keep you no longer. [_To_ ADDLEPLOT.] Jonas, wait on Mrs. Joyner. _Mrs. Joyn._ Good night to your worship. _Gripe._ But stay, stay, Mrs. Joyner: have you spoken with the widow Crossbite about her little daughter, as I desired?