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Book, page 201 / 462 Burs. And a cursed fine dust we should kick up at Oxford, with your Montem money and all!--Money's THE GO after all. I wish it was come to my making you my last bow, "ye distant spires, ye ANTIC towers!" Wheel. (aside to Lord J.). Ye ANTIC towers!--fit for Oxford, my lord! Lord J. Antique towers, I suppose Mr. Bursal means. Burs. Antique, to be sure!--I said antique, did not I, Wheeler? Wheel. O, yes. Lord J. (aside). What a mean animal is this! Enter RORY O'RYAN. Rory. Why, now, what's become of Talbot, I want to know? There he is not to be found anywhere in the wide world; and there's a hullabaloo amongst his friends for him. (Wheeler and Bursal wink at one another.) Wheel. We know nothing of him. Lord J. I have not the honour, sir, to be one of Mr. Talbot's friends. It is his own fault, and I am sorry for it. Rory. 'Faith, so am I, especially as it is mine--fault I mean; and especially as the election is just going to come on. Enter a party of boys, who cry, Finsbury's come!--Finsbury's come with the dresses! Wheel. Finsbury's come? Oh, let us see the dresses, and let us try 'em on to-night. Burs. (pushing the crowd). On with ye--on with ye, there!--Let's try 'em on!--Try 'em on--I'm to be colonel. lst Boy. And I lieutenant.
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