The Female Wits

Chapter 7

Mrs. _Wellf._ We"ll adjourn the Argument, _Marsilia_ shall hear the Cause.

_Prais._ Ay, if you can perswade her to hold her Tongue so long.

Mrs. _Wellf._ I wish I cou"d engage you two in a _Latin_ Dispute, Mr.

_Praiseall_, and you shou"d tell how often the Lady breaks _Pris_--_Pris_--What"s his Name? His Head, you know.

_Prais._ _Priscian_, you mean; Hush! Hush!

Mrs. _Wellf._ He cares not for entring the Lists neither. Come, Mr.

_Praiseall_, I"ll put you upon a more pleasing Task. Try to prevail with that Fair Lady, to give us her New Dialogue.

_Prais._ What, my Angel?

Mrs. _Wellf._ Mrs. _Cross_, I mean.

_Prais._ There is no other She, Madam.

Mrs. _Cross_. Sir!

_Prais._ Will you be so good, to charm our Ears, and feast our Eyes; let us see and hear you in Perfection.

Mrs. _Cross_. This Complement is a Note above _Ela_. If _Marsilia_ shou"d catch me antic.i.p.ating her Song, she"d chide sadly.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Oh, we"ll watch. I"ll call Mr. _Leveridge_.

_Song by Mrs._ Cross.----_A Dialogue._

_Prais._ Thank you Ten thousand times, my Dear.

_Calista._ I"m almost weary of this illiterate Company.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Now, Mr. _Praiseall_, get but Mrs. _Lucas_"s New Dance, by that time sure the Lady will come.

_Prais._ I"ll warrant ye my little _Lucas_.

SINGS.

With a Trip and a Gim, And a Whey and a Jerk at Parting.

Where art thou, my little Girl?

_Little Boy._ She is but drinking a Dish of Coffee, and will come presently.

_Prais._ Pshaw! Coffee! What does she drink Coffee for? She"s lean enough without drinking Coffee.

Mr. _Pink._ Ay, but "tis good to dry up Humours.

_Prais._ That"s well, I Faith! Players dry up their Humours_!_ Why what are they good for then? Let her exert her Humours in Dancing, that will do her most good, and become her best.----Oh, here she comes!----You little Rogue, what do you drink Coffee for?

Mrs. _Lucas_. For the same Reason you drink Claret; because I love it.

_Prais._ Ha, Pert_!_ Come, your last Dance, I will not be deny"d.

_Lucas._ I don"t intend you shall; I love to Dance, as well as you do to see me.

_Prais._ Say"st thou so? Come on then; and when thou hast done, I"ll treat you all in the Green Room with Chocolate; Chocolate, Huzzy; that"s better by half than Coffee. _All_ agreed.

_A Dance by Mrs._ Lucas.

_Prais._ t.i.tely done, I Faith, little Girl.

_Enter Mrs._ Knight.

Mrs. _Cross_. Good morrow Mrs. _Knight_. Pray, dear Mrs. _Knight_, tell me your Opinion of this Play; you read much, and are a Judge.

Mrs. _Knight_. Oh your Servant, Madam! Why truly, my Understanding is so very small, I can"t find the Ladies meaning out.

Mrs. _Cross_. Why, the Masters admire it.

Mrs. _Knight_. So much the worse. What they censure, most times prospers; and commonly, what they admire, miscarries: Pshaw! They know nothing. They have Power, and are positive; but have no more a right Notion of things, Mrs. _Cross_, than you can have of the Pleasures of Wedlock, that are unmarry"d.

Mrs. _Cross_. I submit to better Judgment in that, Madam. I am sure the Auth.o.r.ess is very proud and impertinent, as indeed most Authors are.----She"s a Favourite, and has put "em to a world of Expence in Cloaths. A Play well-dress"d, you know, is half in half, as a great Writer says; The _Morocco_ Dresses, when new formerly for _Sebastian_, they say enliven"d the Play as much as the Pudding and Dumpling Song did _Merlin_.

Mrs. _Knight_. This Play must be dress"d if there"s any Credit remains, tho" they are so cursedly in debt already.

Mrs. _Cross_. It wants it, Madam, it wants it.

Mr. _Wellf._ Well, Ladies, after this Play"s over, I hope you"ll think of mine; I have two excellent Parts for ye.

_But_, We are at your Service.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Mr. _Pinkethman_! Mr. _Pinkethman_! What, d"ye run away from a Body?

Mr. _Pink._ Who!? I beg your Pardon, Madam.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Well, Mr. _Pinkethman_, you shall see what I have done for you in my next.

Mr. _Pink._ Thank ye, Madam; I"ll do my best for you too.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Mr. _Johnson_!

Mr. _Pink._ So, now she"s going her Rounds.

Mrs. _Wellf._ Mr. _Johnson_!--Duce on him, he"s gone! Well, I shall see him by and by.

_Enter Mr._ Praiseall.

_Prais._ Ladies, the Chocolate is ready, and longs to be conducted by your white Hands to your Rosie Lips!

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