FullReads

LADY K.–We must sow our wild oats, and we must sober down; and we must live here, where the living is very good and very cheap, Clarence, you naughty boy! And we must get you a rich wife. Did you see at church yesterday that young woman in light green, with rather red hair and a pink bonnet?

K.–I was asleep, ma’am, most of the time, or I was bookin’ up the odds for the Chester Cup. When I’m bookin’ up, I think of nothin’ else, ma’am,–nothin’.

LADY K.–That was Miss Brocksopp–Briggs, Brown and Brocksopp, the great sugar-bakers. They say she will have eighty thousand pound. We will ask her to dinner here.

K.–I say–why the doose do you have such old women to dinner here? Why don’t you get some pretty girls? Such a set of confounded old frumps as eat Milliken’s mutton I never saw. There’s you, and his old mother Mrs. Bonnington, and old Mrs. Fogram, and old Miss What’s-her-name, the woman with the squint eye, and that immense Mrs. Crowder. It’s so stoopid, that if it weren’t for Touchit coming down sometimes, and the billiards and boatin’, I should die here–expire, by gad! Why don’t you have some pretty women into the house, Lady Kicklebury?

LADY K.–Why! Do you think I want that picture taken down: and another Mrs. Milliken? Wisehead! If Horace married again, would he be your banker, and keep this house, now that ungrateful son of mine has turned me out of his? No pretty woman shall come into the house whilst I am here.

K.–Governess seems a pretty woman: weak eyes, bad figure, poky, badly dressed, but doosid pretty woman.

LADY K.–Bah! There is no danger from HER. She is a most faithful creature, attached to me beyond everything. And her eyes–her eyes are weak with crying for some young man who is in India. She has his miniature in her room, locked up in one of her drawers.

K.–Then how the doose did you come to see it?

LADY K.–We see a number of things, Clarence. Will you drive with me?

K.–Not as I knows on, thank you. No, Ma; drivin’s TOO slow: and you’re goin’ to call on two or three old dowagers in the Park? Thank your ladyship for the delightful offer.

Enter JOHN.

JOHN.–Please, sir, here’s the man with the bill for the boats; two pound three.

K.–Damn it, pay it–don’t bother ME!

JOHN.–Haven’t got the money, sir.

LADY K.–Howell! I saw Mr. Milliken give you a cheque for twenty-five pounds before he went into town this morning. Look sir [runs, opens drawer, takes out cheque-book]. There it is, marked, “Howell, 25L.”

JOHN.–Would your ladyship like to step down into my pantry and see what I’ve paid with the twenty-five pounds? Did my master leave any orders that your ladyship was to inspect my accounts?

LADY K.–Step down into the pantry! inspect your accounts? I never heard such impertinence. What do you mean, sir?

K.–Dammy, sir, what do you mean?

JOHN.–I thought as her ladyship kept a heye over my master’s private book, she might like to look at mine too.

LADY K.–Upon my word, this insolence is too much.

JOHN.–I beg your ladyship’s pardon. I am sure I have said nothing.

K.–Said, sir! your manner is mutinous, by Jove, sir! if I had you in the regiment!–

JOHN.–I understood that you had left the regiment, sir, just before it went on the campaign, sir.

K.–Confound you, sir! [Starts up.]

LADY K.–Clarence, my child, my child!

JOHN.–Your ladyship needn’t be alarmed; I’m a little man, my lady, but I don’t think Mr. Clarence was a-goin’ for to hit me, my lady; not before a lady, I’m sure. I suppose, sir, that you WON’T pay the boatman?

K.–No, sir, I won’t pay him, nor any man who uses this sort of damned impertinence!

JOHN.–I told Rullocks, sir, I thought it was JEST possible you wouldn’t. [Exit.]

K.–That’s a nice man, that is–an impudent villain!

LADY K.–Ruined by Horace’s weakness. He ruins everybody, poor good-natured Horace!

K.–Why don’t you get rid of the blackguard?