« AnteriorContinuar »
Miss. Indeed, my lord, I cann't.
Neverout. Come, miss; better belly burst than good liquor be lost.
Miss. Pish! well, in life there was never any thing so teasing ; I had rather shed it in my shoes : I wish it were in your guts for my share.
Ld. Smart. Mr Neverout, you ha'n't tasted my
Neverout. No, my lord ; I have been just eating soup; and they say, if one drinks with one's porridge, one will cough in one's grave.
Ld. Smart. Come, take miss's glass, she wish'd it was in your guts; let her have her wish for once: ladies cann't abide to have their inclinations cross'd.
Lady Smart. [To Sir John.] I think, Sir John, you have not tasted the venison yet.
Sir John. I seldom eat it, madam ; however please to send me a little of the crust.
Ld. Sparkish. Why, Sir John, you had as good eat the devil as the broth he is boild in.
Col. Well, this eating and drinking takes away a body's stomach, as Lady Answerall says.
Neverout. I have dined as well as my lord mayor.
Miss. I thought I could have eaten this wing of a chicken ; but my eye's bigger than my belly. Ld. Smart. Indeed, Lady Answerall
, you have eaten nothing.
Lady Answ. Pray, my lord, see all the bones on my plate : they say a carpenter's known by his chips.
Neverout. Miss, will you reach me that glass of
Miss. [Giving it to him.) You see, 'tis but ask and have.
Neverout. Miss, I would have a bigger glass.
Miss. What? you don't know your own mind; you are neither well, full nor fasting ; I think that is enough.
Neverout. Ay, one of the enoughs; I am sure it is little enough.
Miss. Yes; but you know, sweet things are bad for the teeth.
Neverout. [To Lady Answ.] Madam, I don't like that part of the veal you sent me.
Lady Answ. Well, Mr Neverout, I find you are a true Englishman; you never know when you are well.
Col. Well, I have made my whole dinner of beef.
Lady Answ. Why, colonel, a bellyful's a bellyful, if it be but of wheat straw.
Col. Well, after all, kitchen physic is the best physic. Lady
Smart. And the best doctors in the world are doctor Diet, doctor Quiet, and doctor Merry
Ld. Sparkish. What do you think of a little house well fill'd?
Sir John. And a little land well tillid ?
Neverout. My Lady Smart, pray help me to some of the breast of that goose.
Ld. Smart. Tom, I have heard that goose upon goose is false heraldry.
Miss. What! will you never have done stuf
Ld. Smart. This goose is quite raw: well,, God sends meat, but the devil sends cooks.
Neverout. Miss, can you tell which is the gander, the white goose or the grey goose ?
Miss. They say, a fool will ask more questions than the wisest body can answer.
you to that?
Col. Indeed, miss, Tom Neverout has posed you.
Miss. Why, colonel, every dog has his day; but I believe I shall never see a goose again without thinking of Mr Neverout.
Ld. Smart. Well said, miss ; faith, girl, thou hast brought thyself off cleverly. Tom, what say
Col. Faith, Tom is nonpluss’d; he looks plaguily down in the mouth.
Miss. Why, my lord, you see he is the provokingest creature in life; I believe there is not such another in the varsal world.
Lady Answ. O, miss, the world's a wide place.
Neverout. Well, miss, I'll give you leave to call me any thing, if you don't call me spade.
Ld. Smart. Well, but after all, Tom, can you tell me what's Latin for a goose ?
Necerout. O, my lord, I know that: why brandy is Latin for a goose, and tace is Latin for a candle.
Miss. Is that manners, to show your learning before ladies ? Methinks you are grown very brisk of a sudden ; I think the man's glad he's alive.
Sir John. The devil take your wit, if this be wit; for it spoils company : pray, Mr Butler, bring me a dram after my goose ; 'tis very good for the wholesomes.
Ld. Smurt. Come, bring me the loaf; I sometimes love to cut my own bread.
Miss. I suppose, my lord, you lay longest abed to-day.
Ld. Smart. Miss, if I had said so, I should have told a fib; I warrant you lay abed till the cows came home : but, miss, shall I cut you a little crust now my hand is in ?
Miss. If you please, my lord, a bit of undercrust.
Neverout [Whispering miss.] I find you love to lie under.
Miss [Aloud, pushing him from her.] What does the man mean! Sir, I don't understand you at all.
Neverout. Come, all quarrels laid aside: here, miss, may you live a thousand years.
[He drinks to her. Miss. Pray, sir, don't stint me.
Ld. Smart. Sir John, will you taste my October ? I think it is very good; but I believe not equal to yours in Derbyshire.
Šir John. My lord, I beg your pardon; but they say, the devil made askers.
Id. Šmart [To the butler.] Here, bring up the great tankard full of October for Sir John.
Col. [Drinking to miss.] Miss, your health ; may you live all the days of your life.
Lady Answ. Well, miss, you'll certainly be soon married; here's two bachelors drinking to you at once.
Lady Smart. Indeed, miss, I believe you were wrapt in your mother's smock, you are so well beloved.
Miss. Where's my knife ? sure I ha’n't eaten it: O, here it is.
Sir John. No, miss; but your maidenhead hangs in your light.
Miss. Pray, Sir John, is that a Derbyshire compliment? Here, Mr Neverout, will you take this piece of rabbit that you bid me carve for you?
Neverout. I don't know.
Neverout. Why, I'll take it, or let it alone.
Sir John (Talking, with a glass of wine in his hand.] I remember a farmer in our country
Ld. Smart [Interrupting him.] Pray, Sir John, did
you ever hear of parson Palmer? Sir John. No, my lord; what of him?
Ld. Smart. Why, he used to preach over his liquor.
Sir John. I beg your lordship’s pardon, here's your lordship’s health; I'd drink it up, if it were a mile to the bottom.
Lady Smart. Mr Neverout, have you been at the new play?
Neverout. Yes, madam, I went the first night. Lady Smart. Well, and how did it take? Neverout. Why, madam, the poet is damn’d.
Sir John. God forgive you! that's very uncharitable: you ought not to judge so rashly of any Christian.
Neverout [Whispers Lady Smart.] Was ever such a dunce! How well he knows the town! See how he stares like a stuck pig! Well, but, Sir John, are you acquainted with any of our fine ladies yet? Any of our famous toasts?
Sir John. No; damn your fire-ships, I have a wife of my own.
Lady Smart. Pray, my Lady Answerall, how do you like these preserved oranges ?
Lady Answ. Indeed, madam, the only fault I find is, that they are too good.
Lady Smart. O madam; I have heard 'em say, that too good is stark naught.
Miss, drinking part of a glass of wine. Neverout. Pray, let me drink your snuff.