A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

LORY.
[Aside.] So, what will he do now?—[Aloud.] Lord, sir, you had better let the boy be paid below.

TOM FASHION.
Why, as you say, Lory, I believe it will be as well.

LORY.
Yes, yes, I’ll tell them to discharge you below, honest friend.

POSTILION.
Please your honour, there are the turnpikes too.

TOM FASHION.
Ay, ay, the turnpikes by all means.

POSTILION.
And I hope your honour will order me something for myself.

TOM FASHION.
To be sure; bid them give you a crown.

LORY.
Yes, yes—my master doesn’t care what you charge them—so get along, you—

POSTILION.
And there’s the ostler, your honour.

LORY.
Psha! damn the ostler!—would you impose upon the gentleman’s generosity?—[Pushes him out.] A rascal, to be so cursed ready with his change!