BEN
The young gentleman in Pullen’s Row, Islington, that has got the
consumption, has sent to know if you can let him have a sweetbread.

CUTLET Take two,—­take all that are in the shop.  What a disagreeable interruption! (reads again).  “Those fierce and angry passions, which impel man to wage destructive war with man, may be traced to the ferment in the blood produced by an animal diet.”

BEN
The two pound of rump-steaks must go home to Mr. Molyneux’s.  He is in
training to fight Cribb.

CUTLET
Well, take them; go along, and do not trouble me with your disgusting
details.

[Exit Ben.]

CUTLET (Throwing down the book.) Why was I bred to this detestable business?  Was it not plain, that this trembling sensibility, which has marked my character from earliest infancy, must for ever disqualify me for a profession which—­what do ye want? what do ye buy?  O, it is only somebody going past.  I thought it had been a customer.—­Why was not I bred a glover, like my cousin Langston? to see him poke his two little sticks into a delicate pair of real Woodstock—­“A very little stretching ma’am, and they will fit exactly”—­Or a haberdasher, like my next-door neighbour—­“not a better bit of lace in all town, my lady—­Mrs. Breakstock took the last of it last Friday, all but this bit, which I can afford to let your ladyship have a bargain—­reach down that drawer on your left hand, Miss Fisher.”

(Enter in haste, Davenport, Marian, and Lucy.)

LUCY
This is the house I saw a bill up at, ma’am; and a droll creature the
landlord is.

DAVENPORT
We have no time for nicety.

CUTLET
What do ye want? what do ye buy?  O, it is only you, Mrs. Lucy.

Lucy whispers Cutlet.

CUTLET I have a set of apartments at the end of my garden.  They are quite detached from the shop.  A single lady at present occupies the ground floor.

MARIAN
Aye, aye, any where.

DAVENPORT
In, in.—­

CUTLET
Pretty lamb,—­she seems agitated. Davenport and Marian go in with
Cutlet.

LUCY I am mistaken if my young lady does not find an agreeable companion in these apartments.  Almost a namesake.  Only the difference of Flyn, and Flint.  I have some errands to do, or I would stop and have some fun with this droll butcher. Cutlet returns.

CUTLET
Why, how odd this is! Your young lady knows my young lady.  They are
as thick as flies.

LUCY
You may thank me for your new lodger, Mr. Cutlet.—­But bless me, you do
not look well?

CUTLET
To tell you the truth, I am rather heavy about the eyes.  Want of sleep,
I believe.

LUCY
Late hours, perhaps.  Raking last night.

CUTLET No, that is not it, Mrs. Lucy.  My repose was disturbed by a very different cause from what you may imagine.  It proceeded from too much thinking.