Shuff. That's as much as to say, speak now. [Aside.]—To be plain, Lady Caroline, my friend does not know your value. He has an excellent heart—but that heart is—[Coughs.] damn the word, it's so out of fashion, it chokes me! [Aside.] is irrevocably given to another.—But mine—by this sweet hand, I swear——
[Kneeling and kissing her Hand.
Enter John.
Well, sir?—
[Rising hastily.
John. Slyboots, sir, has been down on his knees;—and the groom says he can't go out.
Shuff. Let him saddle another.
John. What horse, sir, will you——
Shuff. Psha!—any.—What do you call Mr. Rochdale's favourite, now.
John. Traitor, sir.