“My good friends,” says he,
“The thing cannot be,
For my purse can’t produce to you one mar’vedie;
But if to discount some more bills you incline,
You all shall partake of my banquet and wine.”
The duns with amazement on each other gazed,
Then threatened attornies, arrests, executions,
But old Sheridan smiled, and was mightily pleased
At their impotent threats, and their vain resolutions.
“Goods and chattels,” says he,