-and such like--now it's
anybody as'll give him a dinner. It's time they did something with
him--for put up with his going's on any longer, I cannot! A nuss's is a
horrid life, ain't it, child?

OLD W. 'Orrid--deary me! So this very afternoon that's comin', he's to
go?

NURSE. Aye, child--the landlord's goin' to offer to take him for a walk,
which'll please him--and then take him off to see if the nuns'll have
charity upon him--if not, there's nothing but the street. He wouldn't go
if he know'd it--still he hasn't a copper coin--he's as cunning as any
fox. Have a little drop of somethin' comfortable, child!

OLD W. Deary me!--at this time of day--but I do feel a sinking!

NURSE. It'll do you a world of good. [_Getting bottle_--_a knock._]
Lawk! what an awkward hour for people to call! [_Knock again._]

OLD W. Deary me! Perhaps it's Mr. Brummell.

NURSE. Not it! It's more than he dare do, to knock twice like that. It's
his old man-servant, come to take off that there dirty screen. [_Opens
door._]

_Enter_ BRUMMELL--_muddy_--_supported by_ ISIDORE

BRUM. Isidore, give me my dressing gown!

ISID. Dressing gown! that's good--why I never put my own on nowadays!

BRUM. [_talking to himself_]. That screen mustn't go--nor the duchess's
armchair. [_Turning to_ NURSE.] Mind that, nurse, whatever happens to
me, this chair and the screen remain. Ha! ha! what would Ballarat say,
if----

NURSE. There, never mind them folks. Pull your coat off, and put your
dressing gown on, do!

BRUM. Dear me! I hope the ices will be better--the punch I've seen to!
The duchess shall sit here.

NURSE [_to_ OLD WOMAN]. That's how he goes on nearly every day. The high
folks he knew have turned his head. Sometimes he makes one of the
waiters announce a lot of folks, as never come, while he, like an old
fool, bows to nobody, and hands nothing to that old chair.

OLD W. What work it must give you.

NURSE [_to_ BRUMMELL]. There, take that muddy coat off, nobody's coming
to-day.

BRUM. Leave the room and see that everything is ready.

NURSE. Drat it. [_Rings the bell._] I must have the waiter up. He'll
soon manage him.

BRUM. [_rising, totters forward, and arranges his shabby dress_]. Well,
now I'm ready! Hark! I think I hear the first carriage. Sir Harry, no
doubt.

_Enter_ WAITER

NURSE. Just see to this old man--make him change his coat, for I can't.

WAITER. Well, this is the last of it. Master says he may sleep in the
street