To these, SMITH, RIVERS

SMITH. Where's my beloved? Deakin, my beauty, where are you?
Come to the arms of George, and let him introduce you. Capting
Starlight Rivers! Capting, the Deakin: Deakin, the Capting. An
English nobleman on the grand tour, to open his mind, by the
Lard!

RIVERS. Stupendiously pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr.
Deakin, split me!

[BRODIE. We don't often see England's heroes our way, Captain,
but when we do, we make them infernally welcome.

RIVERS. Prettily put, sink me! A demned genteel sentiment, stap
my vitals!]

BRODIE. Oh Captain! you flatter me. [We Scotsmen have our
qualities, I suppose, but we are but rough and ready at the best.
There's nothing like your Englishman for genuine distinction. He
is nearer France than we are, and smells of his neighbourhood.
That d-d thing, the JE NE SAIS QUOI, too! Lard, Lard, split me!
stap my vitals! O such manners are pure, pure, pure. They are,
by the shade of Claude Duval!]

RIVERS. Mr. Deakin, Mr. Deakin [this is passatively too much].
What will you sip? Give it the Hanar of a neam.

BRODIE. By these most Hanarable hands now, Captain, you shall
not. On such an occasion I could play host with Lucifer