THOMAS Sure I know Mr. Du-Peigne--you know his master is to marry Madam Julia.
FAG I had forgot.--But, Thomas, you must polish a little--indeed you must.--Here now--this wig!--What the devil do you do with a wig, Thomas?--None of the London whips of any degree of ton wear wigs now.
THOMAS More's the pity! more's the pity! I say.--Odd's life! when I heard how the lawyers and doctors had took to their own hair, I thought how 'twould go next:--odd rabbit it! when the fashion had got foot on the bar, I guessed 'twould mount to the box!--but 'tis all out of character