a corner in your stomach for a piece of venison pasty.

Sir John. Well, I'll try what I can do when it

comes up.

Lady Answ. Come, Sir John, you may go further and fare worse.

Miss. [To Neverout] Pray, Mr Neverout, will you please to send me a piece of tongue?

Neverout. By no means, madam; one tongue is enough for a woman.

Col. Miss, here's a tongue that never told a lie. Miss. That was, because it could not speak. Why, colonel, I never told a lie in my life.

Neverout. I appeal to all the company, whether that be not the greatest lie that ever was told?

Col. [To Neverout.] Prithee, Tom, send me the two legs, and rump, and liver of that pigeon; for, you must know, I love what nobody else

loves.

Neverout. But what if any of the ladies should long? Well, here take it, and the d--1 do you good with it.

Lady Answ. Well; this eating and drinking takes away a body's stomach.

Neverout. I am sure I have lost mine.

Miss. What the bottom of it I suppose?

Neverout. No, really, miss; I have quite lost it. Miss. I should be very sorry a poor body had found it.

Lady Smart. But, Sir John, we hear you are married since we saw you last: what! you have stolen a wedding, it seems?

Sir John. Well; one cann't do a foolish thing once in one's life, but one must hear of it a hundred times.

Col. And, pray, Sir John, how does your lady unknown?

Sir John. My wife's well, colonel, and at your service in a civil way. Ha, ha ! [He laughs. Miss. Pray, Sir John, is your lady tall or short? Sir John. Why, miss, I thank God, she is a little evil.

Ld. Sparkish. Come, give me a glass of claret.

Footman fills him a bumper.

Ld. Sparkish. Why do you fill so much? Neverout. My lord, he fills as he loves you. Lady Smart. Miss, shall I send you some cu

cumber?

Miss. Madam, I dare not touch it: for they say, cucumbers are cold in the third degree.

Lady Smart. Mr Neverout, do you love pud

den?

Neverout, Madam, I'm like all fools, I love every thing that is good; but the proof of the pudden is in the eating.

Col. Sir John, I hear you are a great walker when you are at home.

Sir John. No, faith, colonel; I always love to walk with a horse in my hand: but I have had devilish bad luck in horse flesh of late.

Ld. Smart. Why then, Sir John, you must kiss a parson's wife.

Lady Smart. They say, Sir John, that your lady has a great deal of wit.

Sir John. Madam, she can make a pudding; and has just wit enough to know her husband's

breeches from another man's.

Ld. Smart. My Lord Sparkish, I have some excellent cider; will you please to taste it?

Ld. Sparkish. My lord, I should like it well enough, if it were not treacherous.

Ld. Smart. Pray, my lord, how is it treacherous?

Ld. Sparkish. Because it smiles in my face, and cuts my throat. [Here a loud laugh. Miss. Odd so! madam; your knives are very sharp, for I have cut my finger.

Lady Smart. I am sorry for it: pray, which finger? (God bless the mark !)

Miss. Why, this finger: no, 'tis this: I vow I cann't find which it is.

Neverout. Ay; the fox had a wound, and he could not tell where, &c. Bring some water to throw in her face.

Miss. Pray, Mr Neverout, did you ever draw a sword in anger? I warrant, you would faint at the sight of your own blood.

Lady Smart. Mr Neverout, shall I send you some veal?

Neverout. No, madam; I don't love it.

Miss. Then pray for them that do. I desire your ladyship will send me a bit.

Ld. Smart. Tom, my service to you.

Neverout. My lord, this moment I did myself the honour to drink to your lordship.

Ld. Smart. Why then that's Hertfordshire kind

Neverout. Faith, my lord, I pledged myself; for I drank twice together without thinking.

"That is, any one drinking back to his right hand man; i. e. the person who immediately before drank to him; perhaps a method practised by some persons of this county. Fuller says, this adage is meant to express a return for a favour or benefit conferred. It rather seems to mean returning a favour at the expence of others, as, by this inversion in the circulation of the glass, some of the company are deprived of their turn."-GROSE ut supra, sign. N. 4.

Ld. Sparkish. Why, then, colonel, my humble service to you.

Neverout. Pray, my lord, don't make a bridge of my nose.

Ld. Sparkish. Well, a glass of this wine is as comfortable as matrimony to an old woman.

Col. Sir John, I design one of these days to come and beat up your quarters in Derbyshire.

Sir John. Faith, colonel, come and welcome : and stay away, and heartily welcome: but you were born within the sound of Bow-bell, and don't care to stir so far from London.

Miss. Pray, colonel, send me some fritters.

Colonel takes them out with his hand.

Col. Here, miss; they say fingers were made before forks, and hands before knives.

Lady Smart. Methinks this pudden is too much boil'd.

Lady Answ. O! madam, they say a pudden is poison when it is too much boil'd.

Neverout. Miss, shall I help you to a pigeon? here's a pigeon so finely roasted, it cries, Come

eat me.

Miss. No, sir; I thank you.

Neverout. Why, then you may choose.
Miss. I have chosen already.

Neverout. Well, you may be worse offer'd beyou are twice married.

fore

The Colonel fills a large plate of soup.

Ld. Smart. Why, colonel, you don't mean to eat all that soup?

Col. O, my lord, this is my sick dish; when I'm well I'll have a bigger.

Miss [To Col.] Sup, Simon; very good broth. Neverout. This seems to be a good pullet. Miss. I warrant, Mr Neverout knows what's good for himself.

Ld. Sparkish. Tom, I shan't take your word for it; help me to a wing.

Neverout tries to cut off a wing.

Neverout. Egad, I cann't hit the joint.
Ld Sparkish. Why then, think of a cuckold.
Neverout. O! now I have nick'd it.

[Gives it to Ld. Sparkish. Ld. Sparkish. Why, a man may eat this, though his wife lay a dying.

Col. Pray, friend, give me a glass of small beer, if it be good.

Ld. Smart. Why, colonel, they say, there is no such thing as good small beer, good brown bread, or a good old woman.

Lady Smart [To Lady Answ.] Madam, I beg your ladyship's pardon; I did not see you when I was cutting that bit.

Lady Answ. O! madam; after you is good man

ners.

Lady Smart. Lord! here's a hair in the sauce. Ld. Sparkish. Then, madam, set the hounds after it.

Neverout. Pray, colonel, help me, however, to some of that same sauce.

Col. Come, I think you are more sauce than pig.

Ld Smart. Sir John, cheer up: my service to you: well, what do you think of the world to come?

Sir John. Truly, my lord, I think of it as little

as I can.