id 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 Debt. Besides, I have just now a lazy Trull of a
Daughter, that run away with a Foot Soldier, return'd big with the Lord
knows what, and that's no small Charge to me, that am forc'd to pad it
about for a Livelihood.

L. _Rod._ Well, you may leave a Pound of Powder.

_Ind. Wom._ [_Aside._] A Pound of Powder, pox o'your Generosity, these
great Ladies are grown as stingy as if they paid one ready Mony, were it
not for a City-bubble now and then, I might e'en go dance with the Dogs in
_May-Fair_.

L. _Rod._ [_To the Toy-Man._] Mr. _Gimcrack_, what new Fancies have you
brought this Morning?

_Toy-M._ A Pair of nice _Genoa_ Gloves for your Ladyship, curiously made
up in a gilt Wallnut Shell.

L. _Rod_ A Wallnut Shell! they can't be large enough.

_Toy-M._ Madam, I sold six Pair to my Lady _Strammell_, and her Arm's nine
Inches Diameter.

L. _Rod._ What else have you?

_Toy-M._ A choice Comb for your Eye-brows, Madam, an acute Pair o'
Pinchers for your Hair, and a most ingenious French Knife to slice the
Powder of your Ladyship's Forehead, with Tongs, Shovels, Grates, and
Fenders for your Ladyship's Tea-Table.

L. _Rod._ Well, carry the things in, let your Bills be deliver'd to the
Steward, and I'll order some part of your Mony.

_All._ We humbly thank your Ladyship. [_Exeunt._