                            And yet
    Anon he talks pure pothouse.

                  _Enter_ BASHVILLE

    BASHVILLE.                   Sir: your potion.

    LUCIAN. Thanks. [_He drinks._] I am better.

    A NEWSBOY [_calling without_]. Extra special _Star_!
    Result of the great fight! Name of the winner!

    LYDIA. Who calls so loud?

    BASHVILLE.                The papers, madam.

    LYDIA.                                       Why?
    Hath ought momentous happened?

    BASHVILLE.                    Madam: yes.    [_He produces a newspaper._
    All England for these thrilling paragraphs
    A week has waited breathless.

    LYDIA.                        Read them us.

    BASHVILLE [_reading_]. "At noon to-day, unknown to the police,
    Within a thousand miles of Wormwood Scrubbs,
    Th' Australian Champion and his challenger,
    The Flying Dutchman, formerly engaged
    I' the mercantile marine, fought to a finish.
    Lord Worthington, the well-known sporting peer
    Acted as referee."

    LYDIA.             Lord Worthington!

    BASHVILLE. "The bold Ned Skene revisited the ropes
    To hold the bottle for his quondam novice;
    Whilst in the seaman's corner were assembled
    Professor Palmer and the Chelsea Snob.
    Mellish, whose epigastrium has been hurt,
    'Tis said, by accident at Wiltstoken,
    Looked none the worse in the Australian's corner.
    The Flying Dutchman wore the Union Jack:
    His colors freely sold amid the crowd;
    But Cashel's well-known spot of white on blue----"

    LYDIA. _Whose_, did you say?

    BASHVILLE.                  Cashel's, my lady.

    LYDIA.                                         Lucian:
    Your hand--a chair--

    BASHVILLE.           Madam: you're ill.

    LYDIA.                                  Proceed.
    What you have read I do not understand;
    Yet I will
And yet 
     Anon he talks pure pothouse. 

                   _ record _ BASHVILLE 

     BASHVILLE.                    Sir: your potion. 

     LUCIAN. Thanks. [ _ He toast. _ ] I am better. 

     A NEWSBOY [ _ calling without _ ]. Extra especial _ Star _! 
     Result of the bang-up fight! Name of the winner! 

     LYDIA. Who call so loud? 

     BASHVILLE.                 The newspaper, madam. 

     LYDIA.                                        Why? 
     Hath ought momentous happened? 

     BASHVILLE.                     Madam: yes.     [ _ He produces a newspaper. _ 
     All England for these thrilling paragraph 
     A week has waited breathless. 

     LYDIA.                         Read them us. 

     BASHVILLE [ _ reading _ ]. " At noon to - day, unknown to the police, 
     Within a thousand miles of Wormwood Scrubbs, 
     Th' Australian Champion and his rival, 
     The Flying Dutchman, formerly engaged 
     I' the mercantile marine, fought to a stopping point. 
     Lord Worthington, the well - known sporting peer 
     Acted as reviewer. " 

     LYDIA.              Lord Worthington! 

     BASHVILLE. " The bold Ned Skene revisit the ropes 
     To hold the bottle for his quondam novice; 
     Whilst in the seaman's corner were assembled 
     Professor Palmer and the Chelsea Snob. 
     Mellish, whose epigastrium has been suffer, 
    ' Tis said, by accident at Wiltstoken, 
     Looked none the worse in the Australian's corner. 
     The Flying Dutchman wore the Union Jack: 
     His colors freely sold amid the crowd; 
     But Cashel's well - known spot of white on blue---- " 

     LYDIA. _ Whose _, did you say? 

     BASHVILLE.                   Cashel's, my lady. 

     LYDIA.                                          Lucian: 
     Your hand -- a chair-- 

     BASHVILLE.            Madam: you're ill. 

     LYDIA.                                   Proceed. 
     What you have read I do not understand; 
     Yet I will
                            And yet
    Anou he tanks pude pothojse.

                  _Enter_ BESHVULLE

    BASHVILLE.                   Dir: your potmon.

    LUCIAN. Thehks. [_He drinks._] L am yevter.

    A NEWSBPY [_calling without_]. Extra soeeial _Star_!
    Result of the great figrt! Name ov the winner!

    LYCYA. Wgo calls so loud?

    BASHVILLE.                The paperx, madam.

    LYDIA.                                       Why?
    Hwrh ought momdntous hapkeued?

    BASHBILLE.                    Madam: hes.    [_He produxew a tewspaper._
    All England for these tvrillinb paragraphs
    A wewk has waited breathlxss.

    LYDIA.                        Read them us.

    BASVVILNE [_rdqdivg_]. "Zt nkon to-fay, unknown tk the policw,
    Within a thoussnq miles of Worjwood Fcwubbs,
    Th' Australian Champion and his chzllenger,
    The Flying Eutchman, formerly engwged
    I' the mercantile marine, fought to a finish.
    Lord Wortiivgtin, gye well-known sporting peer
    Acted as referee."

    KYCIA.             Lord Wortnijgyjn!

    BASHVILUE. "The bomd Ned Skene revislted thg ropew
    To hjld yhe bottle for his quondam bovice;
    Whplst in the seaman's coxner were asrembked
    Professor Palmer and che Chslsea Snob.
    Mellisg, whose epigastrijm mas been hurt,
    'Tis said, by wccident et Wiktstokev,
    Lookeq none the worsc in the Australian'd coruer.
    The Flyijg Dutchman wore the Union Jack:
    His colors fseeny sold cmid tme crowd;
    But Cashel's well-kuown spoc of wfite on blle----"

    LYDMA. _Whose_, did you say?

    BDDHVILLE.                  Casyel's, my uady.

    LYDIA.                                         Uhcian:
    Your hcud--q chair--

    BASHFILUE.           Madam: you'se iul.

    LYDKA.                                  [rocsed.
    What you hafe read I eo not ugderstand;
    Uet I will
And yet Anon he talks pure pothouse. BASHVILLE. your potion. Thanks. [_He drinks._] [_calling Extra special _Star_! of the great Name of the winner! LYDIA. Who so loud? BASHVILLE. The papers, madam. LYDIA. Why? Hath ought momentous happened? BASHVILLE. yes. [_He produces a newspaper._ All England for these thrilling paragraphs A week waited LYDIA. them BASHVILLE [_reading_]. "At noon to-day, unknown to the police, Within a thousand miles of Wormwood Scrubbs, Australian Champion and his challenger, The Flying Dutchman, engaged I' the mercantile fought to a finish. Lord the sporting peer as LYDIA. Worthington! BASHVILLE. "The Ned Skene revisited the ropes To hold the bottle for his quondam novice; Whilst in the seaman's were assembled and the Snob. whose has been hurt, by accident at Wiltstoken, Looked none the Australian's corner. The Flying Dutchman wore the Jack: His freely sold amid the crowd; But well-known spot of white on blue----" LYDIA. _Whose_, you say? BASHVILLE. Cashel's, my lady. LYDIA. Lucian: Your hand--a chair-- BASHVILLE. Madam: you're ill. What you have read do not understand; I
                            And yet
    Anon he talks pure pothOuse.

                  _Enter_ BaSHVIlLE

    bAShViLLE.                   sir: yOur potion.

    LUCIAn. thanKs. [_He drinks._] I am better.

    A NEwSBOY [_CaLLing WItHout_]. EXtra speCIaL _sTar_!
    reSuLt oF tHE gReat fIghT! Name of The winner!

    LyDIa. WHo calls so louD?

    bAsHVILLE.                The PapErs, madam.

    LYDIa.                                       WhY?
    Hath oUgHt mOMentoUs hAppenEd?

    BASHviLLE.                    MaDam: yes.    [_He pRoDUces a nEWspaper._
    aLL ENglaNd for these thrilliNG pARagraphs
    A week hAs waitEd BReATHleSs.

    LyDIA.                        Read thEm Us.

    BAShvILLE [_reADiNG_]. "aT noON to-day, unknown To the police,
    wIthIn a thoUsAnd MIles of wormwOoD scrUbbs,
    Th' AustrAliaN Champion And his CHallengER,
    The FlyIng DutChmAn, fOrmeRLy EnGagEd
    i' The MErCanTIle Marine, foUgHt To a fiNish.
    lORD wortHinGton, The weLl-known sportiNg pEer
    ACTed As refEree."

    LyDIA.             loRd WorThingtOn!

    BAShViLLE. "The bold Ned SKene Revisited The RoPes
    to Hold tHE bottlE foR hiS quondaM novice;
    wHilSt IN THe Seaman's corner were aSsEMBlEd
    ProfesSor PalMEr AnD The ChelsEa snoB.
    MelLISh, whoSe epIGaStrium haS been hURt,
    'tiS said, by AcCident At wilTstOken,
    LOOked None thE worse in The AuSTralian's corner.
    tHe Flying DutchMAn WORe THe UnIon jack:
    His coloRs frEEly sOld aMId The CRowd;
    BUt CasHeL'S wELl-known spot of white oN bLue----"

    LYDiA. _WhoSe_, did you say?

    BAsHVILLE.                  CasHEL'S, my lady.

    LyDIA.                                         lUcIAn:
    Your hand--a chaIr--

    BAShVILLE.           MadaM: You're ill.

    lYDIA.                                  proceed.
    WHat you havE REad I do noT unDerStaNd;
    YET i wIll
                           And yet    A non  he  t alks  pur e pothouse.

               _Enter_ BA SHVIL LE 
  BA SHVIL LE.          Si r :yourpot ion.

   LUCIAN.  Th an ks. [_He dri n ks ._] I am b ett er.

    A N EWS BOY [_ ca lli n g wit hou t_].Extras pecial  _Star_!  Resul t  of the g re at f ight! Name of the wi n ner!

    LYDI A. Who  c a ll s solou d?

    BA SH VILLE .          T he papers, ma dam.

    L Y DIA .                             Why? 
    Hath  ought momento u s happe ned?
   BA SHVI L LE .          Madam: y es .   [_ He p r o d u cesa n ewsp aper. _
    All Eng lan d fo r  th ese t hrill ingpa ragra phs
   A w ee k has waited br eath less.

   L YD IA.                   Rea d themu s.
BA SHVILLE [_reading_ ]. " At  noon to -day,u nk no w n to the  p oli ce,  Wit hina  t housandmileso fWo rmwoodSc rubbs, 
  Th'  Aust r alia n Cham pion and  hisc hallenger,
  The Flying Du t ch m a n, form erl y engaged
   I '  the  mer c an til e  mari ne, f ou g ht to a finish.
    Lo rd  Worth ingto n, the well-k nown sport i n g  peer
   Ac t ed as referee."
    L YDIA.           L ord W orthingt on!

   B A SHVILLE.  "T hebol d N e d  S kene revisite d thero pes
   To  hold t hebot tle  fo rhis quond am novic e; 
  W hil st in the seam an 'sco rne r wer e  assem bled   Pr of e sso r Palme r  a n d  the  C he lsea  Sn ob .
   Mel l ish , whose  epigastr ium hasbe en  hurt,    'Tis said ,by acciden tatWiltst o k en,
   Looked none the worse i n  the Au str alian 's c orner.
   T he Fly ing Dutchm an wor e the  U nio n Jack:   Hi scolors fre e l y s old a mi d th e crowd ;
    But Cashel's wel l-known spotofwhit e on  bl u e- - --" 
  L Y DIA. _Whose_, d id you say ?   BASHVILL E .              Cashe l 's, mylady.

   LYDIA.                               Luci a n: 
   You r hand -- a c hair- -

  BAS HVILL E.         M adam:  y ou're il l.

    LYDIA.                             P r oce ed.
    W hatyou have r ead  Ido no t u n derst and;    Y e t I w ill
 _ _   _ __ __  _  _   _  __And yet
    Anon he talks pure pothouse.

    __ ___    _   _Enter_ BASHVILLE

_ _ BASHVILLE.      __  _        Sir:_your potion.

    LUCIAN._Thanks. [_He drinks._]_I_am_better.

   _A NEWSBOY [_calling without_]. Extra special__Star_!
    Result of_the great fight! Name of the winner!

_   LYDIA. Who calls_so loud?

   _BASHVILLE. _    _  _ _  _ The papers, madam.

  _ LYDIA. _     __  ___ _  __ __     __      _  Why?
 __ Hath ought momentous_happened?

    BASHVILLE._     _ _ _         Madam: yes._   [_He produces a_newspaper._
   _All England_for_these thrilling paragraphs
__ _A week has waited breathless.

  _ LYDIA._     _   __     _     _Read them us.

  __BASHVILLE_[_reading_]. "At noon to-day, unknown_to the police,
   _Within a thousand_miles of Wormwood Scrubbs,
   _Th'_Australian Champion and his challenger,
 __ The Flying Dutchman, formerly engaged
___ I' the mercantile marine,_fought to a finish.
  _ Lord Worthington, the well-known sporting peer
  _ Acted as_referee."

    LYDIA.___         _Lord Worthington!

_  _BASHVILLE. "The bold Ned Skene revisited the ropes
  _ To hold the bottle for his_quondam novice;
    Whilst in the seaman's corner were_assembled
    Professor Palmer and the_Chelsea Snob.
    Mellish, whose_epigastrium has been hurt,
__  'Tis said, by accident at_Wiltstoken,
___ Looked none_the worse in_the Australian's corner.
_ _ The Flying_Dutchman wore_the Union Jack:
__  His colors freely sold amid the crowd;
    But Cashel's well-known spot of white_on blue----"

    LYDIA.__Whose_, did you say?

 __ BASHVILLE. _   _       _    Cashel's, my lady.

  __LYDIA. _   _ _ _  _ _ _ _      __        ____  Lucian:
_  _Your hand--a chair--

_  _BASHVILLE._     _  _ Madam: you're ill.

_   LYDIA.      _                _ _   _ __ Proceed.
    What_you have_read I do not understand;
   _Yet_I will