Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/321

Rh Lady Smart. I remember, you told me, you had been with her from Dan to Beersheba?

Col. Lord! I shall die; I cannot spit from me.

Miss. O! Mr. Neverout, my little Countess has just litter'd; speak me fair, and I'll set you down for a puppy.

Neverout. Why, miss, if I speak you fair, perhaps I mayn't tell truth.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Ay, but Tom, smoke that, she calls you puppy by craft.

Neverout. Well, miss, you ride the fore horse to day.

Miss. Ay, many a one says well, that thinks ill.

Neverout. Fie, miss; you said that once before; and, you know, too much of one thing is good for nothing.

Miss. Why, sure we can't say a good thing too often.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Well, so much for that, and butter for fish; let us call another cause. Pray, madam, does your ladyship know Mrs. Nice?

Lady Smart. Perfectly well, my lord; she's nice by name, and nice by nature.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Is it possible she could take that booby Tom Blunder for love;love? [sic]

Miss. She had good skill in horse flesh, that would choose a goose to ride on.

Lady Answ. Why, my lord, 'twas her fate; they say, marriage and hanging go by destiny.

Rh