Maggie. What's that?
Oldbuck. Pardon me, your grace, I failed to recognize, in this mean attire, the high-born lady, which your highness must be.
Maggie. The ould fellow's looney. (Pokes his foot with the cane.)
Oldbuck. O! O! my foot!
Maggie. Will ye's kape a civil tongue?
Oldbuck. Ten thousand pardons. I forgot your disguise.
Maggie. Disguise is it? Troth, it's my belafe that it's yerself is disguised intirely—in liquor.
Plumpface (outside, L., coughing violently). Where's (cough) the (cough) doctor? (Enters, L.)
Oldbuck. Old Plumpface, confound him!