Sir J. B. Me—I don't know what this fellow has been about here, among them, with his snuff, and his feathers—but where have you been, Tallyho? I tell you, if you'd have Doll, you must stick to her, my boy.
Miss Dolly B. Ay, that you must, indeed, my boy—Lord, Squire, what has made you so tipsy?
Tall. Love and burgundy—swallowing your health, my sweet Dolly Douse—
Sings.
Had Diana been there, she'd been pleas'd to the life.
And one of the lads got a goddess to wife.
[Takes her Hand.
When you come across my noddle—tipsy-gipsy—I get upon the half cock, and then—a dozen bumpers makes me—tol de rol lol—ha! ha! ha! old dad—how cursed comical you looked, when Kick-him-Jenny flung you over her ears, ha! ha! ha! damme, you came upon all fours, like a tom cat with a parachute, ha! ha! ha!
Miss Dolly B. Ha! ha! ha! Oh, what a rare fellow you are, ha! ha! ha!—what fine game you do make of my father! ha! ha! ha!
Sir J. B. Game o'your father! why, you confounded jade—
Tall. Sir John, I am sorry my mare broke your nose.