John Bull | Page 4

know your upholsterer--he should make me
a feather bed gratis of the same pretty materials. If that was all my own,
I'd sleep like a pig, though I'm married to Mrs. Brulgruddery.
Pereg. I shall sleep better, because it is not my own.
Dennis. Your own's in a snugger place, then? safe from the sharks of
this dirty world, and be hang'd to 'em!
Pereg. Except the purse in my pocket, 'tis, now, I fancy, in a place most
frequented by the sharks of this world.
Dennis. London, I suppose?
Pereg. The bottom of the sea.

Dennis. By my soul, that's a watering place--and you'll find sharks
there, sure enough in all conscience.
Enter MRS. BRULGRUDDERY.
Mrs. Brul. What would you chuse to take, sir, after your walk this raw
morning? We have any thing you desire.
Dennis. Yes, we have any thing. Any thing's nothing, they say. [Aside.
Mrs. Brul. Dan, bustle about; and see the room ready, and all tidy; do
you hear?
Dan. I wull.
Mrs. Brul. What would you like to drink, sir?
Pereg. O, mine is an accommodating palate, hostess. I have swallowed
burgundy with the French, hollands with the Dutch, sherbet with a Turk,
sloe juice with an Englishman, and water with a simple Gentoo.
Dan. [Going.] Dang me, but he's a rum customer! It's my opinion, he'll
take a fancy to our sour beer. [Exit into the House
Pereg. Is your house far from the sea-shore?
Mrs. Brul. About three miles, sir.
Pereg. So!--And I have wandered upon the heath four hours, before
day-break.
Mrs. Brul. Lackaday! has any thing happened to you, sir?
Pereg. Shipwreck--that's all.
Mrs. Brul. Mercy on us! cast away?
Pereg. On your coast, here.

Dennis. Then, compliment apart, sir, you take a ducking as if you had
been used to it.
Pereg. Life's a lottery, friend; and man should make up his mind to the
blanks. On what part of Cornwall am I thrown?
Mrs. Brul. We are two miles from Penzance, sir.
Pereg. Ha!--from Penzance!--that's lucky!
Mrs. Brul [Aside to DENNIS.] Lucky!--Then he'll go on, without
drinking at our house.
Dennis. A hem!--Sir, there has been a great big thunder storm at
Penzance, and all the beer in the town's as thick as mustard.
Pereg. I feel chill'd--get me a glass of brandy.
Dennis. Och, the devil! [Aside.] Bring the brandy bottle for the
jontleman, my jewel. [Aloud to his Wife.
Mrs. Brul. [Apart.] Dont you know you've emptied it, you sot, you!
Dennis. [Apart.] Draw a mug of beer--I'll palaver him.
Mrs. Brul. [Apart, and going.] Ah! if you would but follow my advice!
[Exit into the House.
Dennis. You see that woman that's gone sir,--she's my wife, poor soul!
She has but one misfortune, and that's a wapper.
Pereg. What's that?
Dennis. We had as a neat a big bottle of brandy, a week ago--and damn
the drop's left. But I say nothing--she's my wife, poor creature! and she
can tell who drank it. Would'nt you like a sup of sour--I mean, of our
strong beer?
Pereg. Pshaw! no matter what. Tell me, is a person of the name of

Thornberry still living in Penzance?
Dennis. Is it one Mr. Thornberry you are asking after?
Pereg. Yes. When I first saw him (indeed, it was the first time and the
last), he had just begun to adventure humbly in trade. His stock was
very slender, but his neighbours accounted him a kindly man--and I
know they spoke the truth. Thirty years ago, after half an hour's
intercourse, which proved to me his benevolent nature, I squeezed his
hand, and parted.
Dennis. Thirty years! 'Faith, after half an hour's dish of talk, that's a
reasonable long time to remember!
Pereg. Not at all; for he did me a genuine service; and gratitude writes
the records in the heart, that, till it ceases to beat, they may live in the
memory.
Enter MRS. BRULGRUDDERY, with a Mug of Beer.
Mrs. Brul. [Apart to DENNIS.] What have you said about the brandy
bottle?
Dennis. [Apart.] I told him you broke it, one day.
Mrs. Brul. [Apart.] Ah! I am always the shelter for your sins.
Dennis. Hush!--[To PERG.] You know, sir, I--hem!--I mention'd to you
poor Mrs. Brulgruddery's misfortune.
Pereg. Ha, ha! you did indeed, friend.
Mrs. Brul. I am very sorry, sir, but--
Dennis. Be asy, my lambkin! the jontleman excuses it. You are not the
first that has crack'd a bottle, you know.--Here's your beer, sir. [Taking
it from his Wife.] I'm not of a blushing nation, or I'd be shame-faced to
give it him.--[Aside.] My jewel, the jontleman was asking after one Mr.
Thornberry. [Delaying to give the Beer.

Mrs. Brul. What! old Job Thornberry of Penzance, sir?
Pereg. The very same. You know him, then?
Mrs. Brul. Very