REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. Old hospitality; old wine; old ale; all the
images of old England; an old butler.

MR. TOOGOOD. Shall we all be welcome?

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. Heartily; you will be slapped on the shoulder,
and called Old Boy.

LORD BOSSNOWL. I think we should all go in our old clothes. He!
He!

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. You will sit on old chairs, round an old table,
by the light of old lamps, suspended from pointed arches, which,
Mr. Chainmail says, first came into use in the twelfth century,
with old armour on the pillars and old banners in the roof.

LADY CLARINDA. And what curious piece of antiquity is the lady of
the mansion?

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. No antiquity there; none.

LADY CLARINDA. Who was she?

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. That I know not.

LADY CLARINDA. Have you seen her?

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. I have.

LADY CLARINDA. Is she pretty?