All._ Ha, ha, ha.

La. _Rod._ Oh Mr. _Nicknack_! I hear the _Bauble-Frigot_'s in the River,
I'm on Tip-toes to see what's imported: Are the Catalogues out yet?

_Nick._ Your Ladyship is set down for the whole Cargo, to select where you
please, tho' the Ladies teize me as much for new Fancies, as your good for
nothing Actresses do a Poet for Parts, at the disposal of a new Comedy;
and I protest Madam, I find it as difficult to get Goods fast enough, as a
Woman that Lies in ev'ry Year does to get God-fathers.

La. _Rod_. Pray, Mr. _Nicknack,_ what Demands have the Ladies made on you.

_Nick_ My Lady _Swine-love_ has bespoke a Dozen of _Bermudas_ Pigs; my
Lady _Noisy_ a screaming Parrot; my Lady _Squelch_ a _Dutch_ Mastiff; my
Lady _Hoyden-tail_ a Cat o' Mountain; Mrs. _Tireman_ a large Baboon, and
Mrs. _Lick-it_ an _Italian_ Greyhound.

La. _Rod_. You have an infallible Snare for our Sex; but I wonder, Mr.
_Nicknack,_ how so refin'd a Merchant as you, can endure the smoaky
Coffee-Houses, and the dirty _Exchange_.

_Nick_. Madam, I use _Robin's_, as nice a Coffee-House as _Tom's_,
where no Smoaking's allow'd, but a little _Betony_ or _Colt's-foot_ to
a few Hundred thousand Pound Men; as for the _Change_, I must own,
_Dutch_-Shapes, and _Jew_-Faces are not so agreeable to look at, as the
Beauties at _Hampton-Court_; and I wonder the better sort of Merchants
don't walk above Stairs, that in a dead time o' Business, when we have
little to employ our Thoughts, we may divert our Opticks with the pretty
Sempstresses.

Sir _Har_. When Business is at an ebb, what occasion have you to be there.

_Nick_. Only the Hopes of bubling you Beau-Baronets, that come thither to
show your Equipage, and laugh at Men of Business, where we invite you to
Dinner at _Pontack's_, drink heartily about, and then draw you in for a
thousand Guineas on some publick Wager,--Tho' really the greatest
Misfortune that attends a Merchant is an indispensable Necessity of being
ev'ry Day at Change; for shou'd the least Ill-news happen, and a Merchant
absent, whip, they protest his Bills, report he's in _Holland_, when, poor
Soul, he's gone no farther than to the _Saturday's_ Club at _Black-heath_
Bowling-Green.

L. _Rod_. I think you have Travell'd tho', Mr. _Nicknack_.

_Nick_. To _Leghorne_ and _Smirna_, Madam, instead of _France_ and
_Italy_, where I had like to have had a Scimiter in my Guts, by an
impotent old Turk, that spy'd me glancing at his W