Kite. Yes, sir, the king of the gipsies is a very good one; he has an excellent hand at a goose or a turkey—Here's Captain Brazen, sir. I must go look after the men.
Enter Brazen, reading a Letter.
Brazen. Um, um, um, the canonical hour——Um, um, very well—My dear Plume! give me a buss.
Plume. Half a score, if you will, my dear! What hast got in thy hand, child?
Brazen. 'Tis a project for laying out a thousand pounds.
Plume. Were it not requisite to project first how to get it in?
Brazen. You can't imagine, my dear, that I want twenty thousand pounds! I have spent twenty times as much in the service—But if this twenty thousand pounds should not be in specie——
Plume. What twenty thousand?
Brazen. Harkye—— [Whispers.
Plume. Married!