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Lady Dor. Mr. Philabel you us'd to have good Intelligence; what new Diversions are preparing for the Town?
Phil. The newest thing that I know of, is a Dictionary that's preparing for the Press, at the desire of a certain great Lady, to suit our Language to the Modesty of the fair Sex, and to castrate the immodest Syllables in such Words as begin and end obscenely.
Lucinda. Fy? Philabel, was ever such an extravagance.
Lady Dor. I vow, a very decent design; I have been strangely put out of countenance my self at the beginning and conclusions of some certain words.
Phil. There is likewise a Cabal of Ladies, who meet daily for the Reformation of good Manners. Another great Grievance is the Nudities upon Fans worse than the Postures of a Venetian Snuff-box.
Lady Dor. I know a Lady, that shall be nameless, whose Fans are always painted with filthy naked Boys, and yet for the World, she would not be perswaded to be seen in Chelsea-Reach upon a Summers Evening.
Phil. Likewise, Madam, a Poet is to lose his Maidenhead to day upon the Stage.———
Lady Dorimen. Lord! Mr. Philabel, what do you mean?
Phil. Nothing, Madam, but that there is a new Play to be acted. A young Fellow has been drawn in to play the Fool without any necessity for it.
Ang. How comes your Ladyship not to be there? You would see rare sport; there is a Party already engaged to cry it down.
Lucin. How! engag'd to cry down a Play before they knew whether it's good or bad.
Phil. O, no matter for that. I'll tell you their Method; they spread themselves in Parties all over the House; some in the Pit, some in the Boxes, others in the Galleries, but principally on the Stage; they Cough, Sneeze, talk Loud, and break silly Jests; sometimes Laughing,
