The Magistrate: A Farce in Three Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

Lukyn, I think we both have engagements—will you excuse me?

Lukyn.

Posket! You’ve gone too far! If you went down on your knees, which you appear to have been recently doing, and begged the names of these two ladies, you shouldn’t have ’em! No sir, by George, you shouldn’t.

Mr. Posket.

Good morning, Colonel Lukyn.

Lukyn.

You’ve lectured me, pooh-poohed me, snubbed me—a soldier, sir—a soldier! But when I think of your dinner-party to-night, with my empty chair, like Banquo, by George, sir—and the chief dish composed of a well-browned, well-basted, family skeleton, served up under the best silver cover, I pity you, Posket! Good morning!

[He marches out with Lugg.

Mr. Posket.