Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/361

Rh Lady Answ. My lord, I beg your pardon; but they say, an ill workman never had good tools.

''Ld. Smart''. Will your lordship have a wing of it?

''Ld. Sparkish''. No, my lord; I love the wing of an ox a great deal better.

''Ld. Smart.'' I'm always cold after eating.

Col. My lord, they say, that's a sign of long life.

''Ld. Smart''. Ay; I believe I shall live till all my friends are weary of me.

Col. Pray, does any body here hate cheese? I would be glad of a bit.

''Ld. Smart''. An odd kind of fellow dined with me t'other day; and when the cheese came upon the table, he pretended to faint; so somebody said, Pray take away the cheese: No, said I; pray, take away the fool: said I well?

Col. Faith, my lord, you served the coxcomb right enough; and therefore I wish we had a bit of your lordship's Oxfordshire cheese.

''Ld. Smart''. Come, hang saving; bring us up a halfp'orth of cheese.

Lady Answ. They say, cheese digests every thing but itself.

''Ld. Sparkish''. Ay; this would look handsome, if any body should come in.

Sir John. Well; I'm weily brosten, as they saynsay [sic] in Lancashire.

Lady Smart. O! sir John; I wou'd I had something to brost you withal. Ld. Smart.