Do pray come, Colonel.
All the Mess. Yes, you must come, Colonel—come—come—come—Colonel! Do Colonel—do come!
[All stand up, except the Colonel.]
Col. Diamond. Well, as you all so particularly request it, I—a—will go; but, 'pon my honour! I am determined to notice the neglect in a proper manner to Lady Mary.
All the Mess. Bravo! Colonel! Bravo!
Capt. Golding. Pass the Madeira this way, Major; but first help yourself.
[Each now takes a glass of Madeira—a Babel call for the servants immediately follows—“Tom! John! Jack! James!” and exeunt omnes, whistling and staggering.]