Tom. Oh, haven’t I been deceived in you! Oh, Colonel, Colonel! you have turned out treacherous; upon my soul, you have!
O’Fi. I’m at a loss to comprehend your meanin’, sorr. Will ye oblige me by informing me whom I have the honour of addressin’?
Tom. You’ve the honour of addressing a miserable, poor devil, who’ll be standing alongside of you at the Old Bailey bar in about three weeks, if he’s not very much mistaken.
O’Fi. Upon my wurrd, sorr, ye’ve got the advantage of me.
Tom. Have I? Then I’m the only man that ever did. I don’t think Tom Cobb is the sort of man to get any advantage out of Colonel O’Fipp. (Colonel O’Fipp falls sobbing into chair.) What’s the matter now?
O’Fi. Ye mentioned the name of Tom Cobb, sorr. I had a dear, dear friend of that name once. He was to have married me daughter, sorr; but he’s gone!
Tom. Well, if that’s what you’re crying for—cheer up, because he’s come back again.
O’Fi. (seizing his hand). Me dear friend, me very dear friend, if ye can only assure me that poor dear dead and gone Tom Cobb is aloive, me gratitude shall know no bounds! Maybe you’re his brother?
Tom. His brother!—get out!