Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/325

Rh Miss. Lord, my petticoat! how it hangs by jommetry!

Neverout. Perhaps the fault may be in your shape.

Miss. [looking gravely] Come, Mr. Neverout, there's no jest like the true jest; but I suppose you think my back's broad enough to bear every thing.

Neverout. Madam, I humbly beg your pardon.

Miss. Well, sir, your pardon's granted.

Neverout. Well, all things have an end, and a pudden has two, up-up-on me-my-my word.

[stutters.

Miss. What! Mr, Neverout, can't you speak without a spoon?

''Ld. Sparkish''. [to lady Smart.] Has your ladyship seen the duchess since your falling out?

Lady Smart. Never, my lord, but once at a visit; and she look'd at me as the devil look'd over Lincoln.

Neverout. Pray, miss, take a pinch of my snuff.

Miss. What! you break my head, and give me a plaster; well, with all my heart; once, and not use it.

Neverout. Well, miss; if you wanted me and your victuals, you'd want your two best friends.

Col. [to Neverout.] Tom, miss and you must kiss and be friends.

Miss. Any thing for a quiet life: my nose itch'd, and I knew I should drink wine, or kiss a fool.

Col. Well, Tom, if that ben't fair, hang fair.

Neverout. I never said a rude thing to a lady in my life. Miss.