_Dan._ Wauns! all that money! _Dennis._ I'd be proud, sir, to know your upholsterer--he should make me a feather bed gratis of the same pretty materials. If that was all my own, I'd sleep like a pig, though I'm married to Mrs. Brulgruddery. _Pereg._ I shall sleep better, because it is not my own. _Dennis._ Your own's in a snugger place, then? safe from the sharks of this dirty world, and be hang'd to 'em! _Pereg._ Except the purse in my pocket, 'tis, now, I fancy, in a place most frequented by the sharks of this world. _Dennis._ London, I suppose? _Pereg._ The bottom of the sea. _Dennis._ By my soul, that's a watering place--and you'll find sharks there, sure enough in all conscience. _Enter MRS. BRULGRUDDERY._ _Mrs. Brul._ What would you chuse to take, sir, after your walk this raw morning? We have any thing you desire. _Dennis._ Yes, we have any thing. Any thing's nothing, they say. [_Aside._ _Mrs. Brul._ Dan, bustle about; and see the room ready, and all tidy; do you hear? _Dan._ I wull. _Mrs. Brul._ What would you like to drink, sir? _Pereg._ O, mine is an accommodating palate, hostess. I have swallowed burgundy with the French, hollands with the Dutch, sherbet with a Turk, sloe juice with an Englishman, and water with a simple Gentoo. _Dan._ [_Going._] Dang me, but he's a rum customer! It's my opinion, he'll take a fancy to our sour beer. [_Exit into the House_ _Pereg._ Is your house far from the sea-shore? _Mrs. Brul._ About three miles, sir. _Pereg._ So!--And I have wandered upon the heath four hours, before day-break. _Mrs. Brul._ Lackaday! has any thing happened to you, sir? _Pereg._ Shipwreck--that's all. _Mrs. Brul._ Mercy on us! cast away? _Pereg._ On your coast, here. _Dennis._ Then, compliment apart, sir, you take a ducking as if you had been used to it. _Pereg._ Life's a lottery, friend; and man should make up his mind to the blanks. On what part of Cornwall am I thrown? _Mrs. Brul._ We are two miles from Penzance, sir. _Pereg._ Ha!--from Penzance!--that's lucky! _Mrs. Brul_ [_Aside to DENNIS._] Lucky!--Then he'll go on, without drinking at our house. _Dennis._ A hem!--Sir, there has been a great big thunder storm at Penzance, and all the beer in the town's as thick as mustard. _Pereg._ I feel chill'd--get me a glass of brandy. _Dennis._ Och, the devil! [_Aside._] Bring the brandy bottle for the jontleman, my jewel. [_Aloud to his Wife._ _Mrs. Brul._ [_Apart._] Dont you know you've emptied it, you sot, you! _Dennis._ [_Apart._] Draw a mug of beer--I'll palaver him. _Mrs. Brul._ [_Apart, and going._] Ah! if you would but follow my advice! [_Exit into the House._ _Dennis._ You see that woman that's gone sir,--she's my wife, poor soul! She has but one misfortune, and that's a wapper. _Pereg._ What's that?