_O’Dogh._ O my dear, I tell you again and again, that the English can never be precedent to us. They, by their genius and constitution, must always run mad about something or other, either about burlettas, pantomimes, a man in a bottle, a Cock-lane ghost, or something of equal importance. But, my dear, they can afford to run mad after such nonsense; why they owe more money than we are worth; stay ’till we are as rich as they are, and then we may be allowed to run mad after absurdities as well as they. _Mrs. Dig._ Mighty well, sir, mighty well! Oh mighty well. _O’Dogh._ Heyday, what’s the matter now? _Mrs. Dig._ But I see your design--you have a mind to break my heart--(_sobs and cries_)--yes, you argue and contradict me for no other end--you do every thing to fret and vex me. _O’Dogh._ Pray explain, my dear? What is it you mean? _Mrs. Dig._ Why, sir, ever since I returned to this odious country I have been requesting and begging, and praying, that you would send to London only for the set of long-tailed horses, that I told you I admired so--but no, I cannot prevail, though you know my Lady Kilgobbin, my Lady Balruddery, my Lady Castleknock, and, in short, every lady of figure all run upon long tails--nobody but doctors, apothecaries, lawyers, cits, and country squires drive with short tails now--for my part, you know I detest a short tail. _O’Dogh._ Well, my dear, I have sent for your brother to town, on purpose to settle all these points between us, and if he thinks it proper that you should have long tails, you may have them as long as my Lady Kilgobbin’s, my Lady Balruddery’s tails, or any tails in the universe; and as to the title, if it can be had, why we will submit that to him likewise. _Mrs. Dig._ I know it can be had--and so let me have no more trouble about it, for a title I will have--I must be a lady as well as other people--I can’t bear being a plain Mrs. Diggerty any longer. (_cries._) _O’Dogh._ Well, well, my dear, we will try what we can do--you must be a lady! yes, yes, you shall be a lady; but by the blood of the O’Doghertys, it shall be a broken-back’d lady. A hump shall be your patent, my dear. (_aside._) [_Exit._ _Mrs. Dig._ An obstinate man! not accept of a title--in short, there is no living without it. Who’s there? _Enter_ John. _John._ Madam! _Mrs. Dig._ Nobody come yet? _John._ No, madam. _Mrs. Dig._ What’s o’clock? _John._ A quarter past seven, madam. _Mrs. Dig._ Are the candles lit and the cards ready? _John._ They have been ready this half hour, madam. _Mrs. Dig._ Shew the company into this room. _John._ Yes, madam. [_A loud knocking, three servants without._] _Will._ Lady Kinnegad. _James._ Lady Kinnegad. _John._ Lady Kinnegad. _Enter_ John, _shewing in_ Lady Kinnegad. _John._ Lady Kinnegad, madam. [_Exit._