You notty young men, ow! you notty young men!
You tell us you're toffs, and the real Upper Ten,
But behind all your ears is the mark of a pen!
So don't you deceive us, you notty young men!
Miss J. J. (concluding). And such, Sir, are these entertainments grand,
In which Mirth and Refinement go 'and-in-'and!
[As the Duke is expressing his appreciation of the elevating effect of such performances, the Butler rushes in, followed by two flurried Footmen.
Butler. Pardon this interruption, my Lord, but I come to announce the fact
That by armed house-breakers the pantry has just been attacked!
Duke. Then we'll repel them—each to his weapons look!
I know how to defend my property, although I am a Dook!
Miss J. (snatching sword from one of the men-in-armour).
With such a weapon I their hash will settle!
You'll lend it, won't yer, old Britannia Metal?
[Shouts and firing without; the Footmen hide under sofa.
Let flunkeys flee—though danger may encircle us,
A British Buttons ain't afeard of Burgulars!
[Tremendous firing, during which the Burglars are supposed to be repulsed with heavy loss by the Duke, Butler, and Page.
Miss J. 'Ere—I say, Dook, I saved yer life, didn't yer know?
(A parting shot, upon which she staggers back with a ringing scream.)
The Brutes! they've been and shot me!... Mother!... Oh!