_Sir Har._ This is the furniture of my brother's bedchamber that follows:--"A suite of tapestry hangings, with the story of Judith and Holofernes, torn only where the head should have been off; an old bedstead, curiously wrought about the posts, consisting of two load of timber; a hone, a basin, three razors, and a comb-case"--Look ye, sir, you see I can item it. _Pounce._ Alas, Sir Harry, if you had ten quire of items, 'tis all answered in the word retrospect. _Sir Har._ Why then, Mr. Pounce and Mr. Tipkin, you are both rascals. _Tip._ Do you call me rascal, Sir Harry? _Sir Har._ Yes, sir. _Tip._ Write it down, Mr. Pounce, at the end of the leaf. _Sir Har._ If you have room, Mr. Pounce, put down "villain, son of a whore, curmudgeon, hunks, and scoundrel." _Tip._ Not so fast, Sir Harry, he cannot write so fast; you are at the word "villain"; "son of a whore," I take it, was next--You may make the account as large as you please, Sir Harry. _Sir Har._ Come, come, I won't be used thus. Hark ye, sirrah, draw--what do you do at this end of the town without a sword? Draw, I say-- _Tip._ Sir Harry, you are a military man, a colonel of the Militia. _Sir Har._ I am so, sirrah, and will run such an extorting dog as you through the guts, to show the Militia is useful. _Pounce._ O dear, O dear! How am I concerned to see persons of your figure thus moved--The wedding is coming in, we'll settle these things afterwards. _Tip._ I am calm. _Sir Har._ Tipkin, live these two hours, but expect-- _Enter_ HUMPHRY, _leading_ NIECE; MRS. CLERIMONT, _led by_ FAINLOVE; CAPTAIN CLERIMONT _and_ CLERIMONT, SEN. _Pounce._ Who are these? Hey-day, who are these, Sir Harry? Ha! _Sir Har._ Some frolic, 'tis wedding-day; no matter. _Hump._ Haw! haw! father, master uncle, come, you must stir your stumps, you must dance--Come, old lads, kiss the ladies. _Mrs. Cler._ Mr. Tipkin, Sir Harry, I beg pardon for an introduction so malapropos; I know sudden familiarity is not the English way. Alas, Mr. Gubbin, this father and uncle of yours must be new modelled; how they stare, both of them! _Sir Har._ Hark ye, Numps, who is this you have brought hither? is it not the famous fine lady, Mrs. Clerimont? What a pox did you let her come near your wife? _Hump._ Look ye, don't expose yourself, and play some mad country prank to disgrace me before her; I shall be laughed at, because she knows I understand better. _Mrs. Cler._ I congratulate, madam, your coming out of the bondage of a virgin state. A woman can't do what she will properly till she's married. _Sir Har._ Did you hear what she said to your wife? _Enter_ AUNT, _before a service of Dishes._ _Aunt._ So, Mr. Bridegroom, pray take that napkin, and serve your spouse to-day, according to custom. _Hump._ Mrs. Clerimont, pray know my aunt.