And calls her “his dear little duck of a bride!”
His utt’rance is thick, his cravat is untied,
And his face is as red as a new Murray’s Guide;
His gait is unsteady, his manner so rude,
It’s plain to perceive that Sir Rupert is “screwed.”
But he touches his heart, and he turns up his eyes,
And by language and gesture most earnestly tries
To convince her that ne’er from his knees will he rise,
Till to wed on the morrow she freely complies.
If you’ve seen Mrs. Kean