Enter TEDDY M’LUSH, an Irish Watchman.
M’L. Ulloa, here! What the devil have you got a fire?
Tom. What do you ask for your beaver, Charley?
Mrs. T. Why, my goodness, watchman, you are quite drunk.
M’L. Eh, drunk are you,—then I’ll take care of you.
Mrs. T. But I want to give charge of these two gentlemen, who have behaved in the most extravagant manner—almost kissed me to death.
M’L. Oh, you want to charge these gentlemen in an extravagant manner, for almost kissing them to death, do you?—but I’ll soon put a stop to it.
Kate. That’s right, watchman.
Tom. Zounds! fellows, do you think we’re to be bullied in this fashion?
M’L. Oh, you’re bullies dressed in the fashion, are you?—I’ll soon take charge of ye. (Springs rattle—it is answered without, R. and L).