Drinks.
Hard. Good, very good, thank you; ha! ha! Your generalship puts me in mind of Prince Eugene, when he fought the Turks at the battle of Belgrade. You shall hear.
Marl. Instead of the battle of Belgrade, I think it's almost time to talk about supper. What has your philosophy got in the house for supper?
Hard. For supper, sir! (Aside.) Was ever such a request to a man in his own house?
Marl. Yes, sir; supper, sir: I begin to feel an appetite. I shall make devilish work to-night in the larder, I promise you.
Hard. (Aside.) Such a brazen dog sure never my eyes beheld. (To him.) Why really, sir, as for supper, I can't well tell. My Dorothy, and the cook-maid, settle these things between them. I leave these kind of things entirely to them.
Marl. You do, do you?
Hard. Entirely. By-the-by, I believe they are in actual consultation, upon what's for supper, this moment in the kitchen.
Marl. Then I beg they'll admit me as one of their privy council. It's a way I have got. When I travel, I always choose to regulate my own supper. Let the cook be called. No offence I hope, sir.
Hard. O no, sir, none in the least; yet, I don't know how, our Bridget, the cook-maid, is not very communicative upon these occasions. Should we send for her, she might scold us all out of the house.