Henry Fielding

“ It is a tyranny of
custom, a tyranny we must comply with; for we people of fashion are the
slaves of custom."--"Marry come up!" said Slipslop, who now knew well
which party to take. "If I was a woman of your ladyship's fortune and
quality, I would be a slave to nobody."--"Me," said the lady; "I am
speaking if a young woman of fashion, who had seen nothing of the world,
should happen to like such a fellow.--Me, indeed! I hope thou dost not
imagine--"--"No, ma'am, to be sure," cries Slipslop. "No! what no?"
cried the lady. "Thou art always ready to answer before thou hast heard
one. ”

“ Ifakins! if I was Mrs Andrews, with a hundred a year, I should not envy
the best she who wears a head. A woman that could not be happy with such
a man ought never to be so; for if he can't make a woman happy, I never
yet beheld the man who could. I say again, I wish I was a great lady for
his sake. I believe, when I had made a gentleman of him, he'd behave so
that nobody should deprecate what I had done ”

“ Those
are delicacies which exist only in superior minds; thy coarse ideas
cannot comprehend them. Thou art a low creature, of the Andrews breed, a
reptile of a lower order, a weed that grows in the common garden of the
creation."--"I assure your ladyship," says Slipslop, whose passions were
almost of as high an order as her lady's, "I have no more to do with
Common Garden than other folks. ”