I will go on—honour bright. So I met Mr Vivian, and as he had known me in better days, and has a good heart of his own, he says—
"Horatio,—or I do forget myself."
Pisistratus puts his hand on the check-string.
Peacock.—I mean, (correcting himself)—"Why, Johnson, my good fellow."
Pisistratus.—Johnson!—oh that's your name—not Peacock.
Peacock.—Johnson and Peacock both, (with dignity.) When you know the world as I do, sir, you will find that it is ill travelling this "naughty world" without a change of names in your portmanteau.
"Johnson," says he, "my good fellow," and he pulled out his purse. "Sir," said I, "if, 'exempt from public haunt,' I could get something to do when this dross is gone. In London there are sermons in stones, certainly, but not 'good in everything,'—an observation I should take the liberty of making to the Swan, if he were not now, alas! 'the baseless fabric of a vision.'"
Pisistratus.—Take care!
Peacock—(hurriedly.)—Then says Mr Vivian, "If you don't mind wearing a livery, till I can provide for you more suitably, my old friend, there's a vacancy in the establishment of Mr Trevanion." Sir, I accepted the proposal, and that's why I wear this livery.
Pisistratus.—And, pray, what business had you with that young woman, whom I take to be Miss Trevanion's maid?—and why should she come from Oxton to see you?