Lady Answ. My lord, I beg your pardon; but they say, an ill workman never had good tools.
Ld. Smart. Will your lordship have a wing of it?
Ld. Sparkish. No, my lord; I love the wing of an ox a great deal better.
Ld. Smart. I'm always cold after eating.
Col. My lord, they say, that's a sign of long life.
Ld. Smart. Ay; I believe I shall live till all my friends are weary of me.
Col. Pray, does any body here hate cheese? I would be glad of a bit.
Ld. Smart. An odd kind of fellow dined with me t'other day; and when the cheese came upon the table, he pretended to faint; so somebody said, Pray take away the cheese: No, said I; pray, take away the fool: said I well?
Here a loud and large laugh.
Col. Faith, my lord, you served the coxcomb right enough; and therefore I wish we had a bit of your lordship's Oxfordshire cheese.
Ld. Smart. Come, hang saving; bring us up a halfp'orth of cheese.
Lady Answ. They say, cheese digests every thing but itself.
A Footman brings a great whole cheese.
Ld. Sparkish. Ay; this would look handsome, if any body should come in.
Sir John. Well; I'm weily brosten, as they sayn in Lancashire.
Lady Smart. O! sir John; I wou'd I had something to brost you withal.
