Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/358

 Neverout. Why, I'll take it, or let it alone.

Miss. You are a provoking creature.

Sir John. [talking with a glass of wine in his hand.] I remember a farmer in our country —

''Ld. Smart''. [interrupting him.] Pray, sir John, did you ever hear of parson Palmer?

Sir John. No, my lord; what of him?

''Ld. Smart''. Why, he used to preach over his liquor.

Sir John. I beg your lordship's pardon; here's your lordship's health; I'd drink it up, if it were a mile to the bottom.

Lady Smart. Mr. Neverout, have you been at the new play?

Neverout. Yes, madam, I went the first night.

Lady Smart. Well, and how did it take?

Neverout. Why, madam, the poet is damn'd.

Sir John. God forgive you! that's very uncharitable; you ought not to judge so rashly of any Christian.

Neverout. [whispers lady Smart.] Was ever such a dunce? How well he knows the town! See how he stares like a stuck pig! Well, but, sir John, are you acquainted with any of our fine ladies yet?

Sir John. No; damn your fireships, I have a wife of my own.

Lady Smart. Pray, my lady Answerall, how do you like these preserved oranges?

Lady Answ. Indeed, madam, the only fault I find is, that they are too good.

Lady Smart. O madam; I have heard 'em say, that too good is stark naught. Miss.