Mush.Soh! what the devil shall I do now, I shall certainly be discovered.(Aside.)O'Dogh.How are you now, my dear?Mush.O better, better, a great deal.O'Dogh.Oh, but for fear of the worst, I will have you bled plentifully, my dear, and half a score good rousing blisters laid on by way of prevention; for it is a very sickly time, my life.Mush.Aye, so it is, my soul. But, my dear, I begin to be a little better; pray send the maid hither.O'Dogh.What do you want with the maid, my angel?Mush.I want her upon a particular occasion, my love—oh, oh, oh—O'Dogh.Very well, my dear, I'll send her to you. I think we have the Count of the three blue balls in a fine pickle; but I have not done with him yet. I have laid a ridiculous snare for him, if he will but fall into it, that will not only expose him to the world, but cure him for ever, I think, of trespassing upon matrimonial premisses.[Exit.Mush.Was ever poor devil so sweated! I wish I were out of the kingdom! I shall cer|tainly be poisoned among them! they are a damned barbarous people. I have often heard of the wild Irish, but never believed there were such till now. Poison a man, only for having an intrigue with a friend's wife. Zounds, we never mind such things in England; but they are unpolished beings here.0