Jarvis. O! quite amusing.
Butler. I find my wines a-going, sir; and liquors don't go without mouths, sir; I hate a drunkard, sir.
Honeyw. Well, well, Philip, I'll hear you upon that another time, so go to bed now.
Jarvis. To bed! Let him go to the devil.
Butler. Begging your honour's pardon, and begging your pardon, master Jarvis, I'll not go to bed, nor to the devil neither. I have enough to do to mind my cellar. I forgot, your honour, Mr. Croaker is below. I came on purpose to tell you.
Honeyw. Why didn't you show him up, blockhead?
Butler. Show him up, sir? With all my heart, sir. Up or down, all's one to me.
Exit.
Jarvis. Ay, we have one or other of that family in this house from morning till night. He comes on the old affair, I suppose; the match between his son, that's just returned from Paris, and Miss Richland, the young lady he's guardian to.
Honeyw. Perhaps so. Mr. Croaker, knowing my friendship for the young lady, has got it into his head that I can persuade her to what I please.