Harry. That you will give me your solemn promise never to touch liquor again.
Silas. What! Give up my freedom?
Harry. No; be free. You are now the slave of an old custom, “more honored in the breach than the observance.” Don’t let it master you again. Don’t let my wife blush for her father.
Silas. I won’t! There’s my hand. Sally is yours; and I solemnly promise never to break (smash of crockery, L.)—Hullo! What’s that?
Mrs. S. (Outside, L.) O, the monster! Drive him out!
Sally. (Outside, L.) He won’t go. Run, mother, run! (Crash.)
Mrs. S. (Outside, L.) He’s sp’ilt my best dishes! O, the beast! (Enter, L.) O, Silas, this is all your work. That hateful critter’s got into the kitchen.
Enter Sally, L.
Sally. O, mother! Harry! father! He’s coming this way! Save us, save us! (Gets under table.)
Mrs. S. Goodness gracious! he’ll set the house afire! (Gets behind sofa.)