Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/346

336 Miss. Why, this finger: no, 'tis this: I vow I can't find which it is.

Neverout. Ay; the fox had a wound, and he could not tell where, &c. Bring some water to throw in her face.

Miss. Pray, Mr. Neverout, did you ever draw a sword in anger? I warrant, you would faint at the sight of your own blood.

Lady Smart. Mr, Neverout, shall I send you some veal?

Neverout. No, madam; I don't love it.

Miss. Then pray for them that do. I desire your ladyship will send me a bit.

''Ld. Smart''. Tom, my service to you.

Neverout. My lord, this moment I did myself the honour to drink to your lordship.

''Ld. Smart''. Why then that's Hertfordshire kindness.

Neverout. Faith, my lord, I pledged myself; for I drank twice together without thinking.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Why then, colonel, my humble service to you.

Neverout. Pray, my lord, don't make a bridge of my nose.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Well, a glass of this wine is as comfortable as matrimony to an old woman.

Col. Sir John, I design one of these days to come and beat up your quarters in Derbyshire.

Sir John. Faith, colonel, come, and welcome: and stay away, and heartily welcome: but you were born within the sound of Bow bell, and don't care to stir so far from London.

Miss. Pray, colonel, send me some fritters. Colonel