_Lady Teaz._ What, would you restrain the freedom of speech?

_Sir Pet._ Ah! they have made you just as bad as any one of the society.

_Lady Teaz._ Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace.

_Sir Pet._ Grace, indeed!

_Lady Teaz._ But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse; when I say an ill-natured thing, "tis out of pure good humor; and I take it for granted they deal exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell"s too.

_Sir Pet._ Well, well, I"ll call in, just to look after my own character.

_Lady Teaz._ Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you"ll be too late. So good-bye to ye. [_Exit._

_Sir Pet._ So--I have gained much by my intended expostulation! Yet with what a charming air she contradicts everything I say; and how pleasantly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can"t make her love me; there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she is doing everything in her power to plague me. [_Exit_.

SCENE.--_A room in_ LADY SNEERWELL"S _House._

LADY SNEERWELL, MRS. CANDOUR, CRABTREE, SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE, _and_ JOSEPH SURFACE, _discovered_.

_Enter_ LADY TEAZLE _and_ MARIA.

_Lady Sneer._ Lady Teazle, I hope we shall see Sir Peter?

_Lady Teaz._ I believe he"ll wait on your ladyship presently.

_Lady Sneer._ Maria, my love, you look grave. Come, you shall sit down to piquet with Mr. Surface.

_Mar._ I take very little pleasure in cards--however, I"ll do as your ladyship pleases.

_Mrs. Can._ Now I"ll die; but you are so scandalous, I"ll forswear your society.

_Lady Teaz._ What"s the matter, Mrs. Candour?

_Mrs. Can._ They"ll not allow our friend Miss Vermillion to be handsome.

_Lady Sneer._ Oh, surely she is a pretty woman.

_Crab._ I am very glad you think so, ma"am.

_Mrs. Can._ She has a charming fresh color.

_Lady Teaz._ Yes, when it is fresh put on.

_Mrs. Can._ Oh, fie! Her color is natural: I have seen it come and go!

_Lady Teaz._ I dare say you have, ma"am: it goes off at night, and comes again in the morning.

_Sir Ben._ True, ma"am, it not only comes and goes; but, what"s more, her maid can fetch and carry it!

_Mrs. Can._ Ha! ha! ha! how I hate to hear you talk so! But surely now, her sister is, or was, very handsome.

_Crab._ Who? Mrs. Evergreen? Oh! she"s six-and-fifty if she"s an hour!

_Mrs. Can._ Now positively you wrong her; fifty-two or fifty-three is the utmost--and I don"t think she looks more.

_Sir Ben._ Ah! there"s no judging by her looks, unless one could see her face.

_Lady Sneer._ Well, well, if Mrs. Evergreen does take some pains to repair the ravages of time, you must allow she effects it with great ingenuity; and surely that"s better than the careless manner in which the widow Ochre caulks her wrinkles.

_Sir Ben._ Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you are severe upon the widow.

Come, come, "tis not that she paints so ill--but, when she has finished her face, she joins it on so badly to her neck, that she looks like a mended statue, in which the connoisseur may see at once that the head is modern, though the trunk"s antique.

_Crab._ Ha! ha! ha! Well said, nephew!

_Mrs. Can._ Ha! ha! ha! Well, you make me laugh; but I vow I hate you for it. What do you think of Miss Simper?

_Sir Ben._ Why, she has very pretty teeth.

_Lady Teaz._ Yes, and on that account, when she is neither speaking nor laughing (which very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her mouth, but leaves it always on a-jar, as it were--thus.

[_Shows her teeth._

_Mrs. Can._ How can you be so ill-natured?

_Lady Teaz._ Nay, I allow even that"s better than the pains Mrs. Prim takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a poor"s-box, and all her words appear to slide out edgewise as it were--thus: _How do you do, madam?

Yes, madam._ [_Mimics._

_Lady Sneer._ Very well, Lady Teazle; I see you can be a little severe.

_Lady Teaz._ In defence of a friend it is but justice. But here comes Sir Peter to spoil our pleasantry.

_Enter_ SIR PETER TEAZLE.

_Sir Pet._ Ladies, your most obedient.--[_Aside,_] Mercy on me, here is the whole set! a character dead at every word, I suppose.

_Mrs. Can._ I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter. They have been so censorious--and Lady Teazle as bad as any one.

_Sir Pet._ That must be very distressing to you, indeed, Mrs. Candour.

_Mrs. Can._ Oh, they will allow good qualities to n.o.body: not even good nature to our friend Mrs. Pursy.

_Lady Teaz._ What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs. Quadrille"s last night?

_Mrs. Can._ Nay, her bulk is her misfortune; and, when she takes so much pains to get rid of it, you ought not to reflect on her.

_Lady Sneer._ That"s very true, indeed.