Miss. Why, this finger: no, 'tis this: I vow I can'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 kindness.
Neverout. Faith, my lord, I pledged myself; for I drank twice together without thinking.
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.
