II. Come, fill again; you are not doing any thing at all. I. Doing! Ecod, I am doing away with my brains, and I’m half done over; but a pleasant companion and good wine, I say again, are not to be resisted-- _Solis æterna est Phœbo Bacchoque juventa._ Isn’t that right, eh? II. _Tunc dolor et curæ_ RUGA_que frontis abit._ I. Excellent! good! fine! give me your hand.--Ovid, Sir--good! I respect you, Sir; I reverence you, Sir. You’ll be a general; you’ll be a great commander, depend upon it. I’ll fill a bumper; there, there, there! and now--here is wishing you every success--may you be a field-marshal! II. Thank you; thank you:--when I _am_, I’ll recommend you for promotion, and do for all your sons. I. Sons! I have no sons. I may say with the great North American Chief,--“There runs not one drop of my blood in any living creature.” II. But this may not be so hereafter. I. That’s all over, Sir. I once approached the steps of Hymen’s altar; but the torch of the god was quenched: it never shall be lighted for me again. II. Ah! I suppose you were jilted? I. Jilted! Sir, I was shamefully treated. I, for three years, courted a young lady; she was every thing to me; she personified the woman I all my life pictured in my imagination. She was two-and-twenty--tall--fine countenance--bold outline of features;--danced--played;--a perfect scholar, Sir. II. Take care you don’t make such a beautiful form now, that, like Pygmalion, you will break your rash vow, and pray for the animated reality. I. Oh, Sir; you delight me. Your classic conversation--I am glad,--glad,--very glad of your acquaintance. II. Well, about the lady. I. Ah, Sir! (_a deep sigh._) I courted her for nearly three years; she approved--I approved--father and mother approved; and I had absolutely engaged to take a house, Sir--fine, spacious premises, fit for an extensive sch--seminary,--ladies’ seminary; for she was the daughter of the gentleman whose business I had conducted. Well, Sir, we were to be married; and what do you think?--Damn me! if she didn’t run away with a Sergeant of the Lancers, two days previous to our intended wedding!--Ah, Sir! (_deep sigh_) that broke down my habits of business. I gave up every thing connected with seminaries, or schools, or private tuition, and applied to General Dizzyman, for whom my father always votes: he gave me a letter to Colonel Pepperton, and I am now on my way to that gentleman. It produced a shock, Sir; but the life of a soldier will, I hope, make all things right again. II. Hang all the sex! I. Hang them all, I say, three times over--the jilts--the runaway wretches! * * * * *