_Wood._ No faith, madam, I was thinking of the fair lady, who, at
parting, bespoke so cunningly of me all my essences.

_Trick._ But there are other beauties in the house; and I should be
impatient of a rival: for I am apt to be partial to myself, and think
I deserve to be preferred before them.

_Wood._ Your beauty will allow of no competition; and I am sure my
love could make none.

_Trick._ Yes, you have seen Mrs Brainsick; she's a beauty.

_Wood._ You mean, I suppose, the peaking creature, the married woman,
with a sideling look, as if one cheek carried more bias than the
other?

_Trick._ Yes, and with a high nose, as visible as a land-mark.

_Wood._ With one cheek blue, the other red; just like the covering of
Lambeth Palace.

_Trick._ Nay, but her legs, if you could see them--

_Wood._ She was so foolish to wear short petticoats, and show them.
They are pillars, gross enough to support a larger building; of the
Tuscan order, by my troth.

_Trick._ And her little head, upon that long neck, shows like a
traitor's skull upon a pole. Then, for her wit--