_O’Dogh._ O, indeed, to give you your due, Count, you are never bashful in any place. _Mush._ Never, never, my dear. _O’Dogh._ No faith, nor none of your family I believe. _Mush._ Ha, ha, ha! never, never, my dear Diggerty--bashfulness is a mark of ignorance, an uncourtly, vulgar disease--what we men of the world are never infected with--but, my dear Diggerty, I am come on purpose to settle with you; my attorney with the leases is below, for as I know my lord would be loth to lose you as a tenant, and as I am convinced it would be for his interest you should have the lands, why we will even sign and seal at once upon your own terms--for really I think tenants in Ireland want encouragement--they are rack’d too high--they are indeed--it is a shame they should be rack’d so high. _O’Dogh._ Faith, Count, there’s many a true word spoke in jest. _Mush._ Upon my honour I am serious--you want encouragement in trade too. _O’Dogh._ But do you really think so? _Mush._ I do upon my honour, and I will speak to some people of consequence about it on the other side, as soon as I return. _O’Dogh._ Orra but will you? _Mush._ I will upon my honour. _O’Dogh._ O aye, you politicians promise us the devil and all while you are among us, but the moment you get o’t’other side, you have devilish bad memories. _Coun._ You seem to like Ireland, sir. _Mush._ O immensely, sir--it is a damn’d fine country, sir--and excellent claret--excellent claret upon my honour! ’tis true indeed it is not such claret as we drink in London--however, upon the whole, it’s a pretty, neat, light, soft, silky, palateable wine, and I like it mightily--but your fish in this here country is horrid. There you want taste, Hamilton--that there is an article of the scavoir vivre, in which you are totally ignorant--quite barbarous-- _Coun._ Aye! in what respect, sir? _Mush._ Oh, my dear Hamilton, how can you ask such a question--you, you, now--who have been in London!--why you eat all your fish here too noo-- _Coun._ Too noo? _Mush._ Yes, all too noo--why you eat it the very day--nay, sometimes the very hour it comes out of the water--now that there is a total want of taste--quite barbarous. _O’Dogh._ O yes, brother, we eat all our fish in this here country too noo--too noo a great deal. Now, I fancy, Count, we should keep our fish before we dress it, as you keep your venison, till it has got the hot gout. _Mush._ Ha, ha, ha!--the hot gout--ha, ha, ha!--Oh, I shall expire--my dear Diggerty, I honour your hot gout--but your French is a little en Irlandois--en Provence--haut gout is the word. _O’Dogh._ Yes, yes--I understand you--Fogo.