"
And, after this congenial panegyric, he was proceeding with a tale of
a dog and a bull, which threatened to be somewhat of the longest, when
he was interrupted by the return of the old crone, and two of his own
tapsters, bearing the various kinds of drinkables which he had
demanded, and which probably was the only species of interruption he
would have endured with equanimity.
When the cups and cans were duly arranged upon the table, and when
Deborah, whom the ducal generosity honoured with a penny farthing in
the way of gratuity, had withdrawn with her satellites, the worthy
potentate, having first slightly invited Lord Glenvarloch to partake
of the liquor which he was to pay for, and after having observed,
that, excepting three poached eggs, a pint of bastard, and a cup of
clary, he was fasting from every thing but sin, set himself seriously
to reinforce the radical moisture. Glenvarloch had seen Scottish
lairds and Dutch burgomasters at their potations; but their exploits
(though each might be termed a thirsty generation) were nothing to
those of Duke Hildebrod, who seemed an absolute sandbed, capable of
absorbing any given quantity of liquid, without being either vivified
or overflowed. He drank off the ale to quench a thirst which, as he
said, kept him in a fever from morning to night, and night to morning;
tippled off the sack to correct the crudity of the ale; sent the
spirits after the sack to keep all quiet, and then declared that,
probably, he should not taste liquor till _post meridiem_, unless it
was in compliment to some especial friend.
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