Beau Merchants with the stink of Bread and Cheese Snuff. [_Exit._



SCENE _Changes to_ Covent-Garden.

_Enter_ Matter Totty, _and_ Shrimp.

_Tot_. Lord! Lord! What a hugeous Place this _London_ is? I thank you
heartily, Sir, for taking Care of me; for I shou'd ha' quite lost my self,
and then, perhaps, some strange Person might ha' taken me up, and ha' kept
me; but what makes People in such a hurry here, as if at _Lincoln_, the
Mayor and Aldermen were going to a Bull-baiting; at other times Folks in
the Country walk more slowly, as tho' they were going to Church.

_Shr. London_, Master, is the Seat of Business, People do ev'ry thing in a
hurry here, except paying their Debts, and lying with their Wives; but
what Notion had you of the Town before you saw it?

_Tot_. Why, my Grand-mother says, Tis the wicked'st Place under the Copes
of Heav'n, and the Filthinesses she has seen there, have made her frigid
to Mankind; she says, young Fellows are greedy after young Wenches, and
make a scoff at old Folks; Men of Quality have no sense of well-doing, and
Women o'Quality no sense of Self-denial; your highflown Gentry, no sense
of Humility, and the Common People no sense of good Manners; mid-night
Collonels, no sense of Sobriety; Vintners no sense of Honesty; City Wives,
no sense of Chastity, and their Husbands, no sense at all.

_Shr_. You are deceiv'd, Master, People come hither for Education and
Improvement: Ev'ry Merchant's Prentice now assumes an air of Wisdom, talks