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Lady Smart. [Putting a skewer on a plate.] Here, take this skewer, and carry it down to the cook, to dress it for her own dinner.
Neverout. I beg your ladyship's pardon; but this small beer is dead.
Lady Smart. Why, then, let it be buried.
Col. This is admirable black-pudding : miss, shall I carve you some ? I can just carve pudding, and that's all; I am the worst carver in the world; I should never make a good chaplain.
Miss. No, thank ye, colonel ; for they say those that eat black-pudden will dream of the devil.
Ld. Smart. O, here comes the venison pasty : here, take the soup away.
Ld. Smart. [He cuts it up, and tastes the venison.] Sbuds! this venison is musty.
Neverout eats a piece, and it burns his mouth.
have tears in your eyes, I think: what dost cry for, man ?
Neverout. My lord, I was just thinking of my poor grandmother! she died just this very day seven years.
Miss takes a bit, and burns her mout. Neverout. And pray, miss, why do you cry too ?
Miss. Because you were not hang'd the day your grandmother died.
Ld. Smart. I'd have given forty pounds, miss, to have said that.
Col. Egad, I think the more I eat, the hungrier
Ld. Sparkish. Why, colonel, they say, one shoulder of mutton drives down another.
Neverout. Egad, if I were to fast for my life, I would take a good breakfast in the morning, a good dinner at noon, and a good supper at night.
Ld. Sparkish. My lord, this venison is plaguily pepper'd; your cook has a heavy hand.
Ld. Smart. My lord, I hope you are pepperproof: come, here's a health to the founders.
Lady Smart. Ay; and to the confounders too.
Ld. Smart. Lady Answerall, does not your ladyship love venison?
Lady Answ. No, my lord, I cann't endure it in my sight: therefore please to send me a good piece of meat and crust.
Ld. Sparkish. [Drinks to Neverout.] Come, Tom; not always to my friends, but once to you.
Neverout. [Drinks to Lady Smart.] Come, madam; here's a health to our friends, and hang the rest of our kin.
Lady Smart. [To Lady Answ.] Madam, will your ladyship have any of this hare?
Lady Answ. No, madam ; they say, 'tis melancholy meat.
Lady Smart. Then, madam, shall I send you the brains ? I beg your ladyship’s pardon ; for they say, 'tis not good manners to offer brains.
Lady Answ. No, madam ; for perhaps it will make me hairbrain’d.
Neverout. Miss, I must tell you one thing.
Miss. [With a glass in her hand.] Hold your tongue, Mr Neverout; don't speak in my tip.
Col. Well, he was an ingenious man that first found out eating and drinking.
Ld. Sparkısh. Of all vittles drink digests the quickest : give me a glass of wine.
Neverout. My lord, your wine is too strong.
Ld. Smart. Ay, Tom, as much as you're too good.
Miss. This almond-pudden was pure good; but it is grown quite cold.
Neverout. So much the better, miss, cold pudding will settle your love.
Miss, Pray, Mr Neverout, are you going to take a voyage?
Neverout. Why do you ask, miss ?
Sir John. You two have eat up the whole pudding between you. Miss. Sir John, here's a little bit left; will
you please to have it?
Sir John. No, thankee; I don't love to make a fool of my mouth. Col. [Calling to the butler.] John,
your beer good?
Butler. An please your honour, my lord and lady like it; I think it is good. Čol. Why then, John, d'ye see,
you are sure your small beer is good, d’ye mark ? then, give me a glass of wine.
Colonel tasting the wine. Ld. Smart. Sir John, how does your neighbour Gatherall of the Peak ? I hear he has lately made a purchase.
Sir John. O! Dick Gatherall knows how to butter his bread as well as any man in Derbyshire.
Ld. Smart. Why he used to go very fine, when he was here in town.
Sir John. Ay; and it became him, as a saddle becomes a sow.
Col. I know his lady, and I think she is a very good woman.
Sir John. Faith, she has more goodness in her little finger than he has in his whole body.
*Ld. Smart. Well, colonel, how do you like that wine?
Col. This wine should be eaten, it is too good to be drunk.
Ld. Smart. I'm very glad you like it; and pray don't spare it.
Col. No, my lord ; I'll never starve in a cook's shop.
Ld. Smart. And pray, Sir John, what do you say to my wine ?
Sir John. I'll take another glass first : second thoughts are best.
Ld. Sparkish. Pray, Lady Smart, you sit near that ham ; will you please to send me a bit ?
Lady Smart. With all my heart. [She sends him a piece.] Pray, my lord, how do you like it?
Ld. Sparkish. I think it is a limb of Lot's wife. [He cats it with mustard. Egad, my lord, your mustard is very uncivil.
. Lady Smart. Why uncivil, my lord ?
Ld. Sparkish. Because it takes me by the nose, egad.
Lady Smart. Mr Neverout, I find you are a very good carver.
Col. O madam, that is no wonder; for you must know, Tom Neverout carves o' Sundays.
Neverout overturns the saltcellar.
Lady Smart. Mr Neverout, you have overturn'd the salt, and that's a sign of anger: I'm afraid miss and you will fall out.
Lady Answ. No, no; throw a little of it into the fire, and all will be well.
Neverout. O, madam, the falling out of lovers, you know.
Miss. Lovers ! very fine! fall out with him ! I wonder when we were in.
Sir John. For my part, I believe the young gentlewoman is his sweetheart, there is so much fooling and fiddling betwixt them : I'm sure, they say in our country, that shiddle-come sh-'s the beginning of love.
Miss. I own, I love Mr Neverout as the devil loves holy water: I love him like pie, I'd rather the devil had him than I.
Neverout. Miss, I'll tell you one thing.
Neverout. I'd rather you would stop it with a kiss.
Miss. A kiss ! marry come up, my dirty cousin ; are you no sicker? Lord! I wonder what fool it was that first invented kissing !
Neverout. Well, I'm very dry.
Miss. Then you're the better to burn and the worse to fry.
Lady Answ. God bless you, colonel, you have a good stroke with you.
Col. O, madam, formerly I could eat all, but now I leave nothing; I eat but one meal a day.
Miss. What! I suppose, colonel, that is from morning till night?
Neverout. Faith, miss; and well was his wont.
Ld. Smart. Pray, Lady Answerall, taste this bit of venison.
Lady Answ. I hope your lordship will set me a good example.
Ld. Smart. Here's a glass of cider fill’d: miss, you must drink it.