Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/328

 Lady Smart. Miss, what are you looking for?

Miss. O, madam, I have lost the finest needle —

Lady Answ. Why, seek till you find it, and then you won't lose your labour.

Neverout. The loop of my hat is broke; how shall I mend it? [he fastens it with a pin] Well, hang him, say I, that has no shift.

Miss. Ay, and hang him that has one too many.

Neverout. O, miss, I have heard a sad story of you.

Miss. I defy you, Mr. Neverout; nobody can say, black's my eye.

Neverout. I believe, you wish they could.

Miss. Well; but who was your author? Come, tell truth, and shame the devil.

Neverout. Come then, miss; guess who it was that told me; come, put on your considering cap.

Miss. Well, who was it?

Neverout. Why, one that lives within a mile of an oak.

Miss. Well, go hang yourself in your own garters, for I'm sure the gallows groans for you.

Neverout. Pretty miss! I was but in jest.

Miss. Well, but don't let that stick in your gizzard.

Col. My lord, does your lordship know Mrs. Talkall?

''Ld. Sparkish''. Only by sight; but I hear she has a great deal of wit; and egad, as the saying is, mettle to the back.

Lady Smart. So I hear.

Col. Why Dick Lubber said to her t' other day. Madam, you can't cry bo to a goose: yes, but I can, said she; and, egad, cry'd bo full in his face.