Hark away to the claret,—a bumper, Squire Jones!
Arthur Dawson (1700?–1775).
JACK LOFTY.
Scene—Croaker’s House.
Present—Mrs. Croaker and Lofty.
Enter Lofty, speaking to his servant.
Lofty. And if the Venetian ambassador, or that teasing creature, the marquis, should call, I am not at home. D— me, I’ll be a pack-horse to none of them. My dear madam, I have just snatched a moment—and if the expresses to his Grace be ready, let them be sent off; they’re of importance. Madam, I ask a thousand pardons.
Mrs. C. Sir, this honour——
Lofty. And, Dubardieu, if the person calls about the commission, let him know that it is made out. As for Lord Cumbercout’s stale request, it can keep cold; you understand me. Madam, I ask ten thousand pardons. And, Dubardieu, if the man comes from the Cornish borough, you must do him—you must do him, I say. Madam, I ask you ten thousand pardons—and if the Russian ambassador calls—but he will scarce call to-day, I believe. And now, madam, I have just got time to express my happiness in having the honour of being permitted to profess myself your most obedient humble servant.
Mrs. C. Sir, the happiness and honour are all mine; and yet, I am only robbing the public while I detain you.