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 nobody: 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.
_Lady Teaz._ Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small whey; laces
herself by pulleys; and often, in the hottest noon in summer, you may
see her on a little squat pony, with her hair plaited up behind like a
drummer's, and puffing round the ring on a full trot.
_Mrs. Can._ I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her.
_Sir Pet._ Yes, a good defence, truly.
_Mrs. Can._ Truly, Lady Teazle is as censorious as Miss Sallow.
_Crab._ Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be censorious--an
awkward thing, without any one good point under the sun.
_Mrs. Can._ Positively you shall not be so very severe. Miss Sallow is a
near relation of mine by marriage, and, as for her person, great
allowance is to be made; for, let me tell you, a woman labors under many
disadvantages who tries to pass for a girl of six-and-thirty.
_Lady Sneer._ Though, surely, she is handsome still--and for the
weakness in her eyes, considering how much she reads by candlelight, it
is not to be wondered at.
_Mrs. Can._ True, and then as to her manner; upon my word I think it is
particularly graceful, considering she never had the least education;
for you know her
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