gst leudest poor Creatures in Nature; and I wou'd not, for
any thing, Sir _Timothy_ shou'd know that I keep Company, 'twere enough
to lose him.

Mrs. _Driv_. Truly, Mrs. _Flauntit_, this young Squire that you were
Sent to for, has two or three Persons more with him that must be
accommodated too.

_Flaunt_. _Driver_, though I do recreate my self a little sometimes,
yet you know I value my Reputation and Honour.

_Jenny_. Mrs. _Driver_, why shou'd you send for us where _Flauntit_ is?
a stinking proud Flirt, who because she has a tawdry Petticoat, I warrant
you, will think her self so much above us, when if she were set out in
her own natural Colours, and her original Garments, wou'd be much below
us in Beauty.

Mrs. _Driv_. Look ye, Mrs. _Jenny_, I know you, and I know Mrs.
_Flauntit_; but 'tis not Beauty or Wit that takes now-a-days; the Age
is altered since I took upon me this genteel Occupation: but 'tis a fine
Petticoat, right Points, and clean Garnitures, that does me Credit, and
takes the Gallant, though on a stale Woman. And again, Mrs. _Jenny_,
she's kept, and Men love as much for Malice, as for Lechery, as they
call it. Oh, 'tis a great Mover to Joy, as they say, to have a Woman
that's kept.

_Jen_. Well! Be it so, we may arrive to that excellent Degree of
Cracking, to be kept too one day.

Mrs. _Driv_. Well, well, get your selves in order to go up to the
Gentlemen.

_Flaunt_. _Driver_, what art thou talking to those poor Creatures?
Lord, how they stink of Paint and Pox, faugh--

Mrs. _Driv_. They were only complaining that you that were kept,
shou'd intrude upon the Privileges of the Commoners.

_Flaunt_. Lord, they think there are such Joys in Keeping, when I vow,
_Driver_, after a while, a Miss has as painful a Life as a Wife; our
Men drink, stay out late, and whore, like any Husbands.

_Driv_. But I hope in the Lord, Mrs. _Flauntit_, yours is no such Man;
I never saw him, but I have heard he's under decent Correction.

_Flaunt_. Thou art mistaken, _Driver_, I can keep him within no moderate
Bounds without Blows; but for his filthy Custom of Wenching, I have
almost broke him of that--but prithee, _Driver_, who are these Gentlemen?

_Driv_. Truly, I know not; but they are young, and fine as Princes: two
of 'em were disguis'd in masking Habits last Night, but they have sent
'em away this Morning, and they are free as Emperors--One of 'em has
lost a Thousand Pound at Play, and never repin'd at it;