_Sir Abel._ Zounds and fury! you have killed the whole county, you dog! for you have broke the patent medicine chest, that was to keep them all alive!--Richard, gently!--take care of the grand Archimedian corkscrews!--Bless my soul! so much to think of! Such wonderful inventions in conception, in concoction, and in completion! _Enter_ PETER. Well, Peter, is the carriage much broke? _Peter._ Smashed all to pieces. I thought as how, sir, that your infallible axletree would give way. _Sir Abel._ Confound it, it has compelled me to walk so far in the wet, that I declare my water-proof shoes are completely soaked through. [_Exit_ PETER.] Now to take a view with my new invented glass! [_Pulls out his glass._ _Ash._ [_Loud and bluntly._] Zarvent, zur! Zarvent! _Sir Abel._ [_Starting._] What's that? Oh, good day.--Devil take the fellow? [_Aside._ _Ash._ Thankye, zur; zame to you with all my heart and zoul. _Sir Abel._ Pray, friend, could you contrive _gently_ to inform me, where I can find one Farmer Ashfield. _Ash._ Ha, ha, ha! [_Laughing loudly._] Excuse my tittering a bit--but your axing mysel vor I be so domm'd zilly [_Bowing and laughing._]--Ah! you stare at I beceas I be bashful and daunted. _Sir Abel._ You are very bashful, to be sure. I declare I'm quite weary. _Ash._ If you'll walk into the castle, you may zit down, I dare zay. _Sir Abel._ May I indeed? you are a fellow of extraordinary civility. _Ash._ There's no denying it, zur. _Sir Abel._ No, I'll sit here. _Ash._ What! on the ground! Why you'll wring your ould withers-- _Sir Abel._ On the ground--no, I always carry my seat with me [_Spreads a small camp chair._]--Here I'll sit and examine the surveyor's account of the castle. _Ash._ Dickens and daizeys! what a gentleman you wou'd be to shew at a vair! _Sir Abel._ Silence fellow, and attend--"An account of the castle and domain of Sir Philip Blandford, intended to be settled as a marriage portion on his daughter, and the son of Sir Abel Handy,--by Frank Flourish, surveyor.--Imprimis--The premises command an exquisite view of the Isle of Wight."--Charming! delightful! I don't see it though [_Rising._]--I'll try with my new glass--my own invention--[_He looks through the glass._] Yes, there I caught it--Ah! now I see it plainly--Eh! no--I don't see it, do you? _Ash._ Noa, zur, I doant--but little zweepy do tell I he can zee a bit out from the top of the chimbley--zoa, an you've a mind to crawl up you may zee un too, he, he! _Sir Abel._ Thank you--but damn your titter. [_Reads._]--"Fish ponds well stocked"--That's a good thing, Farmer. _Ash._ Likely, likely--but I doant think the vishes do thrive much in theas ponds. _Sir Abel._ No! why? _Ash._ Why, the ponds be always dry i'the zummer; and I be tould that bean't wholesome vor the little vishes.