Dennis. When that's gone, you'll get another—that's of a damn'd impertinent landlady. Sure, she has a right to her parlour; and hav'n't I brought her cash enough to swallow up the Red Cow's rent for these two years?
Mrs. Brul. Have you!—Well, though the young lady misunderstands me, it's always my endeavour to be respectful to gentlefolks.
Dennis. Och, botheration to the respect that's bought, by knocking one shilling against another, at an inn! Let the heart keep open house, I say; and if charity is not seated inside of it, like a beautiful barmaid, it's all a humbug to stick up the sign of the christian.
Mrs. Brul. I'm sure Miss shall have any thing she likes, poor dear thing! There's one chicken—
Dennis. A chicken!—Fie on your double barbarity! Would you murder the tough dunghill cock, to choke a customer?—A certain person, that shall be nameless, will come to you in the course of this day, either by himself, or by friend, or by handwriting.
Mary. And not one word—not one, by letter, now?
Dennis. Be asey—won't he be here soon? In the mean time, here's nineteen guineas, and a seven shilling piece, as a bit of a postscript.
Mrs. Brul. Nineteen guineas and——
Dennis. Hold your gab, woman.—Count them, darling!—
[Putting them on the Table—Mary counts the Money.