SERJEANT.
Then drive it out with a bumper [Drink.] Well, how is it now.
Sir LUKE.
Now!—the matter is not mended at all.
SERJEANT.
What the deuce is the business that so sticks in your stomach.
Sir LUKE.
You know, my dear Serjeant, I am your friend, your real, your affectionate friend.
SERJEANT.
I believe, it Sir Luke.