_Lack._ Miss, don't mind me--people say I'm particular--but I'm the most condescending--Bull, be seated.

_Sir J. B._ Bull! I will not be seated.

_Lack._ Yes, she is a fine girl, indeed.

_Sir J. B._ Who, Doll? Yes, Doll's a dev'lish fine girl, and I shall give fourscore thousand pounds with her.

_Lack._ What!--[_Aside._] This may prove a good hit--but such a vulgar family!--Hearkye--pray--[_With Haughtiness and Contempt._] You've kept shop?

_Sir J. B._ Fifteen years--the Gra.s.shopper, on Garlick Hill.

_Lack._ And you sold raisins, and--

_Sir J. B._ Yes, I did, and figs too.

_Lady B._ D'ye hear him?

_Lack._ [_Aside._] Hem! Yes, I'll marry her--a dowdy--he's a seller of figs--yet, fourscore thousand--

_Sir J. B._ And yet, do you know----

_Lack._ [_Puts him back gently._] Softly--Ma'am, [_To MISS DOLLY BULL._]--upon my soul, you're a very fine creature!

_Miss Dolly B._ Sir! [_Aside._] Lord, I like him, vastly!

_Lack._ I say, ma'am, I--but, hold--I had best begin with a compliment to the mother though--Ma'am,--[_Looks first at LADY BULL, then at SIR JOHN._]--Figs! [_Stifling a Laugh._] Ma'am, your dress is extremely elegant--admirably fancied--and----

_Sir J. B._ Yet if I was to advise----

_Lack._ [_Puts him back, without looking at him._] Be quiet, Bull--with so many native charms--difficult to say, whether ornaments grace the person, or the person ornaments the dress.

_Miss Dolly B._ He's vastly well bred, mamma.

_Lady B._ Yes, but speaks English too plain for a gentleman.

_Lack._ Miss Bull's spirit and good humour, is the emblem of English liberty, and your ladyship, [_Bows._] the Ninon de l'Enclos of Britain.

_Sir J. B._ [_Aside._] Ninon-don--talks French--I lent him a guinea too--well!

_Lack._ I presume, ladies, you go to the ball to-night--if disengaged, miss, I should be proud of the honour of your hand.

_Miss Dolly B._ Yes, sir, with all my heart, sir.

_Sir J. B._ Your heart, hussy! didn't you promise Squire Tallyho?

_Miss Dolly B._ True, papa; but then, I hadn't seen this gentleman.

_Lady B._ Haven't I hopes of Colonel Epaulette, for you?

_Miss Dolly B._ Ay, but none of us have ever seen the colonel--he mayn't like me, and, perhaps, I mayn't like him.

_Lady B._ Dolly, you're too ready with your yes.

_Lack._ Consider, if your ladyship had always cruelly said no, Miss Dolly could never have been the admiration of the Court of Versailles.

_Sir J. B._ Yes, and I dare say----

_Lack._ Softly, my honest fellow.

_Sir J. B._ [_Stamping._] What d'ye mean, friend--honest fellow! I don't believe you know who you're talking to!--[_Aside._] Oh, oh! Tallyho is likely to be jockeyed here--[_Calls out._] Bob, if Squire Tallyho comes, show him----

_Lady B._ Show him out of the house.

_Miss Dolly B._ What! the Squire?

_TALLYHO sings without._

_At six in the morning, by most of the clocks, We rode to Kilruddery, in search of a fox. Tol de rol lol._

_Lack._ Here comes Tallyho--Yes, Casey's burgundy has quite done him up.

_Lady B._ Fontainbleau! one might as well be at Ascot Heath.

_Enter TALLYHO, drunk, and singing._

Tall. _Or, I'll leap over you, your blind gelding and all, tol de rol_--Ha! ha! ha! Sir John, I am so sorry you should be hurt by that fall!

_Sir J. B._ Ha! ha! ha! Yes, I see you are very sorry.

_Tall._ But how is your leg?

_Sir J. B._ My leg! it's my forehead.

_Tall._ Ah! ha! my old prize fighter!

_Sir J. B._ I've been fighting your battles here.--

[_LADY BULL looks scornfully at TALLYHO._

_Tall._ Right, Sir John--[_Observing her._] for I see, if the grey mare's the better horse, I lose the filly.

_Lady B._ I can't stay with this savage.

_Lack._ Will your ladyship honour me--Miss Dolly, your lily hand--

[_Takes her Hand._