Enter Dennis Brulgruddery, singing.
Whack doodlety bob,
Sing pip.
Mrs. Brul. "Sing pip," indeed! sing sot! and that's to your old tune.
Mary. Hav'n't you got an answer?
Mrs. Brul. Hav'n't you got drunk?
Dennis. Be aisy, and you'll see what I've got in a minute.
[Pulls a Bottle from his Pocket.
Mrs. Brul. What's that?
Dennis. Good Madeira, it was, when the butler at the big house gave it me. It jolts so over the heath, if I hadn't held it to my mouth, I'd have wasted half. [Puts it on the Table.]—There, Miss, I brought it for you; and I'll get a glass from the cupboard, and a plate for this paper of sweet cakes, that the gentlefolks eat, after dinner in the desert.
Mary. But, tell me if—