into the next Room, play the Fool with her a little till my Master wakes, then give her a Dram of Surfeit-Water, and put her to Bed to him, now there's Safety in such an Amour, for my Master hasn't his Mistresses from a profess'd Baud; I have found him out a conscientious old Gentlewoman, that's one of the sober Party, and acquainted with most Citizens Daughters, that have as much Inclination to turn Whores as a Chamber-Maid out of Place, and the old Lady is so passionately fond of my Master, because he was once so charitable to do her the Favour, she sends him the choicest of all her Ware—but to pick up a dirty Drab in the Eighteen-penny-Gallery, with a rusty black Top-knot, a little Flower in her Hair, a turn'd Smock, and no Stockings, the Jade wou'd poyson you like Eighteen-penny-Wine.

Knap. I find, Mr. Shrimp, you Gentlemens Gentlemen have all your Cues.

Shr. Ah! Mr. Knapsack, there's more goes to the finishing of a true Valet, than tying a Wig smartly, or answering a Dun genteely. I have sometimes such weighty Matters warring in my Brains, and a greater Conflict with my self how I shall manage 'em, than a Merchant's Cash-keeper, that's run away with two thousand Pounds, and can't resolve whether he shall trust the Government with it, or put it into the East India Company—I only wish it were my Fate to serve some Statesman in Business; for Pimping often tosses a Man into a Place of three hundred a Year, when Mony shall be refus'd, Merit repuls'd, and Relations thought impudent for pretending to't.—But, I believe, Mr. Knapsack, our Hour's elaps'd, for tho' our Masters may n't want us, we that are at Board-wages love to smell out where they dine.

Knap. The Motion, Mr. Shrimp, is admirable, for really the Tea begins to rake my Guts confoundedly. [Exeunt.

SCENE Changes to Lady Rodomont's.

Enter Lady Rodomont, and Mrs. Lovejoy, follow'd by a Servant.

Ser. Madam, the Mercer, the Manto-Maker, the Sempstress, the India-Woman, and the Toy-Man attend your Ladiship without.

L. Rod. Admit 'em,—this Grandeur, Cozen, which those o' Quality assume above the Populace, to have obsequious Mechanicks wait our Levee in a Morning, is not disagreeable; then they are as constant as our Menials, and the less Mony one pays 'em, the more constantly they attend.

Mrs. Lov. Those Ladies, Madam, that want Mony to pay 'em, wou'd gladly excuse their Attendance.

L. Rod. Cozen, 'tis Ill-breeding to suppose People o' Quality want Mony, they have Business, Visits, Company, and very often are not in a Humour to part with it; when we have Mony, we are easie, whether we pay it or no; and 'tis affronting the Nobility, not to observe their Decorums.

The Trades-People Enter.

[To the Mercer.] Mr. Farendine, this Silk has so glaring a Mixture of preposterous Colours, I shall be taken for a North Country Bride; and so very substantial, I believe you design'd it for my Heirs and Successours.

Mer. Madam, 'tis a very well wrought Silk.

L. Rod. So well wrought, it may serve one in a Family for twenty
Generations.—Have you sold any Wedding Suits lately?

Mer. Yes, Madam, I sold a yellow and white Damask, lin'd with a Cherry and blew Sattin, and a Goslin green Petticoat to Mrs. Winifred Widgeon i'the Peak, that marry'd Squire Hog o' Darby,—'twas her Grandmother Trott's Fancy.

L. Rod. Nay, those old Governants, that were Dames of Honour to Queen Bess, make their Daughters appear as monstrous in this Age, as they themselves did in that.—Well, Mr. Farendine, when you have any thing slight and pretty, let me see it. [To the Manto-Maker] Mrs. Flounce, this Sleeve is most abominably cut.

Mant. Mak. Madam, 'tis exacly the Shape of my Lady Snipe's, and she s allow'd to be the Pink o'the Mode.

L. Rod. My Lady Snipe, who ever heard of her?

Mrs. Lov. Oh! Madam, that's the over-dress'd Lady in Fuller's Rents, the first in England, that wore Flow'rs in her Hair; She has 5000_l._ indeed, but they say 'tis in bad Hands, and the Town has neglected her these ten Years.

L. Rod. And wou'd you have me appear like a Turn-stile Creature? why d'you work for such Trumpery? have you not Business enough from Court.

Mant. Mak. Truly, Madam, I'm glad to accept of a Gown from any Body; for the Ladies, now-a-days, are grown so saving, they make all their Petticoats themselves.

L. Rod. Don't you work into the City too?

Mant. Mak. Yes, Madam, I have eleven Gowns to finish against Sunday, for very good Customers, and very religious People.

L. Rod. Religious People! This Creature is so employ'd by the Canaille, I shall have my Cloths cut to pieces, dear Cozen, let Buda make me a Suit with Expedition, I'll present this to the Play-House.

Semp. Does your Ladyship like your Head, Madam?

L. Rod. The Lace, Mrs. Taffety, is so course and so heavy, I'm ready to sink beneath the weight of it.

Semp. Madam, 'tis right Mechlin, cost me Six Guineas a Yard, and I bought it too of a Merchant, that has smuggl'd many a hundred Pounds worth.

L. Rod. There you please me, English People are extremely fond of what's forbid, we commonly obey our Parents, and the Government much a-like; and tho' the State prohibits Flanders Lace, French Alamodes, and India Sattins, we have 'em all by the way of Holland.—These Ruffles too are so furiously starch'd, I shall throw People down as I move along.

Semp. The Ladies, Madam, love a stiff Ruffle, for shou'd the Wind blow it aside, your Ladyship's Elbow might catch cold, but I'll slacken my Hand i'the next.—Does your Ladyship want a very fine short Apron?

L. Rod. Women o' Quality, Mrs. Taffety have left 'em off, and those Ladies that do wear 'em, generally make 'em of their old Top-knots [to the India Woman] Mrs. Japan, you are a Stranger here, I hav'n't seen you since I paid off your last Bill,

Ind. Wom. Oh, Madam! I have been at Death's Door, the Hypocondriacks have so prey'd upon my Spirits, they have destroy'd my Constitution, such Rotations i'my Head, such an Oppression at my Stomach—but I ha' brought you a Pound of Bohee, so purifying, 'twill give your Ladyship a new Mass of Blood in a Quarter of an Hour.

L. Rod. Mrs. Chince has much better.

Ind. Wom. Then will I eat Mrs. Chince.—Shall I show you some fine India Pictures?

L. Rod. I hate those Shadows o' Men half finish'd.

Ind Wom. I must own the Substance of a Man well finish'd is much better,—but here's a Set o'Japan Cups will ravish your Ladyship, a Tradesman's Wife long'd, and miscarry'd about 'em.

L. Rod. I'm overstock'd with China, and they say 'tis grown so common.
I intend to sacrifice mine to my Monkey.

Ind. Wom. Nay, pray, my Lady, buy somewhat of me, you know I'm in great Tribulation, I trusted a couple of Trollops, that were turn'd out of the Play-House, for having too much Assurance for the Stage, and set up a little Shop in Spring Garden; and the bold Jades are gone a stroling Fifty Pounds in my