Maggie. Yis, one. (Aside.) Sure, I'm his patient; that's no lie.
Oldbuck. Ah! Male or female?
Maggie. Well, from my sowl, ye's a mighty inquisitive ould chap. It's a famale.
Oldbuck (aside). Ah, it's true then. Sh! Come here, my good girl. (Maggie approaches him, and hits his foot.) O, my foot! You clumsy—
Maggie (poking his foot with the cane). Does it burn?
Oldbuck. O! O! O! Will you be quiet?
Maggie. If ye'll kape a civil tongue.
Oldbuck. I'm dumb. But tell me—this patient—who is she? I'll be secret.
Maggie. Sure, ye's mighty mysterious. It's myself.
Oldbuck. You? (Aside.) They said she was incog. This must be her. And now I look at her, there's a certain grace about her, a queenly air—O, it's the duchess. (Aloud.) Your grace—