Bul. My brother!
Tom. Well, Colonel, I must trouble you to hand over the property. If it’s inconvenient——
O’Fi. It is. (From behind his handkerchief.)
Tom. Well, I’m sorry, that’s all.
O’Fi. Maybe ye’re sorry, sorr; but ye’re not so sorry as I am, I’ll go bail!
Mat. Papa dear, don’t fret. Sure, I’m a poor penniless girl now; but ain’t I goin’ to marry a handsome and ginerous young gintleman of good fortune? (Leaning on Tom’s shoulder.) And won’t he be a son to ye, and give ye a home for the rest of yer days?
[Whipple appears to remonstrate with her. Caroline expresses indignation and clings to her mother.
Tom. But I protest!
O’Fi. Tom Cobb, ye spake like a gintleman. Ye’re not a gintleman, but ye spake like one. I accept yer offer with pride and gratitude, my son! (Seizes his hand.)
Tom. Get out! (Shakes him off.) Whipple, take this young lady. Matilda, go with the bills! (Hands her to Whipple, who takes her up, expostulating with her.) Caroline, you loved me as a penniless, but poetical major-general; can you still love me as a wealthy, but unromantic apothecary?