Duncan: You stable-fly, you tap-sawdust, you ninepenny wager—he owes me four pounds ten—
White (pulling him down): Sit down, Shy, don’t be a fool. A song, Mr. Burns.
The Others: A song, a song.
Burns: Shall gentlemen of spirit quarrel about four pound ten? Call it quits, Mr. Duncan.
Muir: Come, Shy, quits, in honour of Mr. Burns. Sam meant no offence.
Duncan: I honour Mr. Burns highly. But I’ll see him damned before I will stand out of four pound ten.
Simpson: A very ignoble sentiment.
White: A song, a song.
Burns: I’m sorry, Mr. Ogilvie, that our friend will not oblige us. But was ever candour more becoming? A song for you, gentlemen.
Duncan Gray cam’ here to woo,