Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/307

 Betty. Madam, I can't go faster than my legs will carry me.

Lady Smart. Ay, thou hast a head, and so has a pin. But, my lord, all the town has it, that miss Caper is to be married to sir Peter Giball; one thing is certain, that she has promised to have him.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Why, madam, you know, promises are either broken or kept.

Lady Answ. I beg your pardon, my lord; promises and piecrust are made to be broken.

Lady Smart. Nay, I had it from my lady Carrylie's own mouth. I tell you my tale and my tale's author; if it be a lie, you had it as cheap as I.

Lady Answ. She and I had some words last Sunday at church; but I think I gave her her own.

Lady Smart. Her tongue runs like the clapper of a mill; she talks enough for herself and all the company.

Neverout. And yet she simpers like a firmity kettle.

Miss looking in a glass.

Miss. Lord, how my head is drest to day!

Col. O, madam! a good face needs no band.

Miss. No; and a bad one deserves none.

Col. Pray, miss, where is your old acquaintance, Mrs. Wayward?

Miss. Why, where should she be? you must needs know; she's in her skin.

Col. I can answer that; what if you were as far out as she's in? —

Miss. Well, I promis'd to go this evening to Hyde Park on the water; but I protest I'm half afraid. Neverout.