Well, here is General Washington’s goot health, and his family’s goot health, ant may dey all live long ant prosper. So poor Rip Van Winkle is dead, eh? [Now comes de poser;](149) if Rip is dead, [what has become of his old woman?](150) SETH. She busted a blood-vessel swearing at a Yankee pedlar, and has gone to kingdom come long ago. RIP. De old woman dead too? den her clapper is stopped at last. [_Pause._] So de old woman is dead; well, she led me a hard life—she was de wife of my bosom, she was mine frow for all dat. [_Whimpering._] I’m dead too, unt dat is a fact. Tell me my frient— SETH. I can’t stop any longer—the polls are almost closing, and I must spread the game for the boys. Hurrah, for rum drinking and cheap licence for the retailers! that’s my ticket. [_Re-enter_ VILLAGERS, _shouting._](151) Here, boys, see what you can make of this old critter.—I give him up for the awfulest specimen of human nature in the States. [_Exit into house._ 2D VILLAGER. Are you a Federal or a Democrat? RIP. Fiddle who? damn who’s cat? 2D VILLAGER. What’s your politics? RIP. Oh, I am on de safe side dere; I am a faithful subject of King George! 2D VILLAGER. He’s a Tory! Kill him! Duck him! VILLAGERS. [To the horse pond! Duck him.](152) _Music.—They seize_ RIP _and are about hurrying him off when_ GUSTAFFE _rushes in and throws them off._(153) GUSTAFFE. Stand back, [cowards.](154) OMNES. Cowards! GUSTAFFE. Yes, cowards! who but cowards would rush in numbers one grey-haired man? RIP. Yah, yah, dat’s a fact! GUSTAFFE. Sheer off! you won’t? then damme, here’s at ye. [_Drives them off._] Tell me, old man, what cause had you given them to attack you? RIP. I don’t know; do you? GUSTAFFE. You appear bewildered: can I assist you? RIP. Just tell me where I live, dat’s all I want to know. GUSTAFFE. And don’t you know? RIP. I’m d——d fun I does. GUSTAFFE. What is your name? RIP. Why, I was Rip Van Winkle. GUSTAFFE. Rip Van Winkle? impossible! RIP. Well, I won’t swear to it myself. GUSTAFFE. Stay,—you have a daughter? RIP. To be sure I has: a pretty little girl about so old—Lorrenna; and I have a son too, a lublicka boy, but my daughter is a girl. GUSTAFFE. Do you remember entering into a contract, binding your daughter to marry Herman Van Slaus? RIP. Oh! I remember, de burgomaster came to my house last night mit a paper, and I wrote my name down on it, but I was drunk. GUSTAFFE. Last night! His brain wanders: yet it must be he; come, come with me, old man. RIP. Where are you going to take me to? GUSTAFFE. Your daughter. RIP. Yes, yes, take me to my child. Stop, my gracious!—I am so changed,—suppose she should forget me too; no, no, she can’t forget her poor father. Come, come! [_Exeunt._ *Footnotes* 144 In K., “Kilderkin.”