Burly. Bravo! Burnchurch, I'll bet the same-here's your health. (Drinks.) I Bellcor.-You seem to speak with great confidence here. don't remember the line in Horace, myself, but I have always understood it belong'd to one of the standard authors. Bonitas.-'Tis very frequently quoted, but I think of very slight meaning. Bellcor.-However, that has nothing to say to the question before us; but whether 'tis from the standard authors or not. Of course Burnchurch must be sure to whom it belongs, or he could not have contradicted Sparkle so positively. Burly-Bravo! Bellcor! you're right; so here's to thee. (Drinks.) --- Bellcor. And since the bet is made, it can make no difference to state whence the line is taken. Burnchurch. It is taken from an eclogue, entitled, "De Honesto Amore," by an Italian poet, Mantuanus. The whole line stands thus: "Id commune malum, semel insanivimus omnes." Burly. Of course it is. Mantuanus was a good soul and true -so here's to his health. (Drinks.) I must have some more brandy. Burnchurch.-There is another line as frequently quoted and as firmly ascribed to one of the classical writers of Rome. “Quem Deus vult perdere priùs dementat." Bellcor. That line could not belong to any of the Latin poets. Burnchurch.-It belongs to no Latin author at all. 'Tis merely a literal translation of a Greek iambic in one of the fragments of Euripides. Bellcor.-Besides the verb demento is not classical. Sparkle.-Talking of quotations, will any body inform me where these lines occur? "For he that fights and runs away Will live to fight another day." Omnes.-Hudibras, of course. Hudibras-Hudibras-no doubt! Sparkle.-Come, Burnchurch, give me my revenge. You say you have won a bottle of Claret from me. I'll bet you another bottle you cannot find these lines in Hudibras. Burnchurch. These lines certainly do occur in Hudibras. I'll bet you, if you don't confine me to the exact words. have some quibble. my Sparkle, you'll certainly lose, or you must Sparkle. By no means, my Bonitas. Butler has one or two passages of similar ideas, the nearest of which is in Book iii. Canto iii. verse 243; "For those that fly may fight again, but not those above. Bonitas.-Oh! my Sparkle, the other lines occur also; else why should people quote them so often, and from Hudibras? Sparkle. That I cannot answer. These lines are taken from a smail volume of poems by Sir John Mennes, published in the reign of Charles II., and now extremely scarce. But what is most strange, the original of the couplet may be traced to no less a personage than Demosthenes. Bellcor-And none required a better excuse for his cowardice than the hero of the Philippics. Sparkle.-Demosthenes has the following line, which almost bears a literal translation into the English. « Ανηρ ο Φεογων και παλιν μαχησεται.” Burly (to Bonitas.)—' These be most learned Thebans.' Bonitas, mark you Bardolph's face; no man ever looks more cognizant than when his ears inhale that which is utterly forensic to his comprehension. Bardolph, here's your health. (Drinks.) Bardolph.-What gibberish is that Burly was muttering? Sparkle. He says your face resembles the temple of Vestait contains an inextinguishable fire. (Waiter enters.) Waiter.-Mister Burly, a person outside wishes to speak with you. Burly.-With me? I wouldn't stir though great Pelides' self were come. Who breaks upon my rest? Who is the summoner? Waiter. He says, Sir, his name is Clip. Burly.-Clip! What! the Carburton-street tailor? Oh! Bonitas, he's a delicious specimen. Let's have him in. He's the worst tailor in the world. I owe him five or six shillings. Let's have him in. Bonitas.-Oh! by all means. Fish up the tailor. Send him in, William. Burly.—And, Francis, bring me another glass of brandy and soda-water. Waiter.-Yes, Sir. (Exit.) Burly. This fellow-this cabbage handicraftsman-is a vile rogue-a knave-a villanous knave; and one that (as himself says,) hath had losses.' He made some clothes for me, but—here he comes. How are you, Mr. Clip? (Tailor enters, bowing, &c.) Tailor.-Save you, Sir. Gentlemen, your most obedient. Burly.-Well, Mr. Clip, what would'st thou ? "If thou hast aught towards the public good, set honour in one eye, and-" you know the rest. Come, man, speak out. These are all my friends -my boon companions. Here is Horatio-here, Meneniushere, most truly, Bardolph-here, Mister Silence-here, Mercutio -here, Benedict—and here, Flibbertigibbet. So, here, drink all their healths, and use thy tongue quickly to what thou comest. (Hands tumbler.) Tailor.-Gentlemen, I humbly thank you; I drink to all your good healths. (Drinks.) Burly-Come, what paper's that you're fumbling with? don't be ashamed. Give me thy communication, friend. (Tailor hands paper.) I knew it. 'Tis a vile bill. Stay, I shall read it, pro bono publico. (Reading.) "Straight line, Burly, Esq. to Robin Clip,"-Hear_you_that, Robbing Clip-" Clothier and General Merchant.-Dr. To making one pair of ducks, 6s."By the lords-hear you that? Sparkle. And little enough for a pair of ducks, provided the green peas were included. Bellcor.-Friend Robin, if you charge six shillings for making a pair of ducks, what's your charge for a pigeon-pie? Tailor.-Don't deal in them 'ere matters, sir. Bonitas. Your health, Mr. Tailor. Burly, read on. Burley (reading)." To do. fashionable one pair of double mill'd-extra-gambaroon-cassemere-buckskin, extra-sewn, 8s. straps to do. 18d." Bellcor.-How could buckskin be for do? Burly (reading.)-"To altering vest from double-breast to single do. 18d." "To putting fashionable velvet collar to invisible frock coat, 3s 4d." To buttons for do. 4d." "toto-17 Os 8d." "Received sundary times, 10s. Ballance 10s 8d."-Now I have this fellow on the hip. You say, you charge eight shillings for making a pair of trousers, as you call it, fashionable. Now, these noble Romans shall judge. (Rises and puts his leg on the table.) Bardolph,-There now, Burly, you've broken a tumbler, and spilt a bottle of hock. Burly. Well, let that pass-it's all one! Romans, countrymen and lovers-call you this fashionable making? Why, thou Barbican skein of floss, look here at these trousers! Does it fit this leg ?-ay, this goodly leg. Call you this fashionable making? Why, thou parochial diminutive-thou noun-adjective of mancall you this a goodly fit? I appeal to the senate-how looks this garment-this nether furniture? Burnchurch.-As tho' the back of the trousers were in front. Bantam.-Or a Welsh stocking on the leg of a foot-stool. Sparkle. It looks for all the world as tho' it were cut out with a French horn, and sew'd up with a cork-screw. Burly-Hear you that and tremble-thou ninth farrow of the sow! Tailor.-Beg pardon, sir, but it only acquires a little alteration about the knee and over the boot. Burly.-Over which boot-whey-face? Bardolph.-Over the left to be sure-ha-ha-ha-ha-ho! Burly,-Look you here, now! I never go to your house, nor seek you in ale houses to trouble you about your debts; and if you come again after me, searching me for matters that don't concern you-how should my debts, my honorable debts concern you?-I'll put thee in a stew-pan, and make cockle-sauce of thee. So, avaunt-avaunt! Tailor.-Beg pardon, sir, but I really wants the money so very bad, I can't think o' going without it. Bonitas.-By all means remain, worthy Mr. Clip-do take a chair-pray do. Burly.-Now, thou drunken varlet! thou human nonentity! thou pigeon-liver'd quack! thou button-hole of deformity! begone, or I'll hew thee into meshes-begone, I say, or by St. Paul I'll make carrion of thy anatomy, thou dog of base drink! Tailor.-Beggin' pardon, sir, if you giv'd us our ten bob we'd ha' gone and not mind what any gent we works for might ha' said. But since instead of the stumpy' I gets nothink but rebuse, all I have to say is, 'tis you that is drunken not me, and no gentleman into the bargain. Burly.-Let me at him! (Rises from his seat, endeavours to rush towards the tailor, but is forcibly withheld.) "Unhand me, gentlemen, or by heaven I'll make a corse of him that lets me." I drunk!-come, that's good. I had only two bottles of port before I came here. Drunk! "Pillicock sat on Pillicock's hillhalloo-halloo-loo-loo!" Bardolph.-Will you hold your tongue, and not disturb the neighbours. There's a man dead next door. Sit down, I tell you. Burly.-Disturb a dead man!-well, let that pass! This vile Catamaran says I'm drunk. Begone, I say, thou cabbagestalk of humanity! Tailor.-I'll let you off for eight bob and a tanner, but blow'd if I takes less. Burly.-Hear you this 'most sweet voice.' "Now, by heaven, my blood begins my safer guides to rule." Let me at him! Tailor.-Will you tip us our money an' I'll bolt then? Burly.-Not one denier "Goose, if I had thee upon Sarum plain, I'd send thee cackling home to Camelot." Tailor. Then the only remark I wishes to make is, that you're a low-minded, poverty-struck predestrian. Burly.-Pluto and hell! Let me at him! (He rises, attempts to reach the tailor, but is again withheld.) Nay, an' you push, I can push too. (With one struggle he frees himself; but in making the rush his foot catches the table, it upsets, and the ground is strewn with fragments of broken glass, &c. The tailor makes his escape in the confusion, and Burly falls nose-foremost on the floor.) Bardolph.-There now, you have done for yourself-broke thirty shillings worth o' glass. Burly.-Well, let that pass-'it's all one'-' it's all one.' [Scene closes. (To be continued.) TO ZAMORNA. Oh when I see thy moments spent Tho' 'tis not mine the path to choose And tho' perchance my looks are cold Ah fancy not I e'er behold, With eye unchanged thy smiles. For whilst the magic cup you sip |