SIR BENJAMIN. Complexion of a Spaniard----

CRABTREE. And Teeth a la Chinoise----

SIR BENJAMIN. In short, her Face resembles a table d'hote at Spa--
where no two guests are of a nation----

CRABTREE. Or a Congress at the close of a general War--wherein all
the members even to her eyes appear to have a different interest
and her Nose and Chin are the only Parties likely to join issue.

MRS. CANDOUR. Ha! ha! ha!

SIR PETER. Mercy on my Life[!] a Person they dine with twice a week!
[Aside.]

LADY SNEERWELL. Go--go--you are a couple of provoking Toads.

MRS. CANDOUR. Nay but I vow you shall not carry the Laugh off so--
for give me leave to say, that Mrs. Ogle----

SIR PETER. Madam--madam--I beg your Pardon--there's no stopping
these good Gentlemen's Tongues--but when I tell you Mrs. Candour
that the Lady they are abusing is a particular Friend of mine,
I hope you'll not take her Part.

LADY SNEERWELL. Ha! ha! ha! well said, Sir Peter--but you are
a cruel creature--too Phlegmatic yourself for a jest and too peevish
to allow wit in others.