HUMPHRY. I'm no more a fool than you are--

LOVEYET. Be gone, you scoundrel! Here, Thomas--[_Enter THOMAS._], lug this fellow out of doors.

THOMAS. Yes, sir.

HUMPHRY. No, you sha'n't tho', d' ye see.

THOMAS. I'm cursedly afraid of the great two-handed fellow too.

[_Aside, and exit with HUMPHRY._

LOVEYET [_manet_].

Abusive rascal! But I won't put myself in a pa.s.sion with such a vile animal.--I--I'll read the letter again.

"Honour'd Sir,

"I have just time enough to acquaint you by the _Ocea.n.u.s_, Captain Seaborn, who is now preparing to sail, that I have at length adjusted my business so as to be able to leave this place for New-York, the beginning of March; in which case you may look for me before the first of April next; when I promise myself the happiness of seeing you once more, and enjoying the society of the best of parents: till then I shall continue to be, with truly filial attachment, and anxious expectation of the happy event, your obliged and dutiful son,--CHARLES LOVEYET."

I wonder he don't say anything of the coffee and madeira I wrote to him about;--egad, I must mind the main chance; a penny sav'd, is a penny got; and charity begins at home. By strictly attending to these excellent maxims, I am worth about five and twenty per cent. more than any other merchant in the city; and as for that stupid proverb, money is the root of all evil, 'tis well enough for those to say so, who have none; for my part, I know that much of the good things of this world is better than not enough--that a man can live longer upon a hundred thousand pounds than one thousand pounds--that if, the more we have the more we want, the more we have the more we make--and that it is better to make hay while the sun shines _against_ a rainy day, when I shall be upon my last legs, than to work and toil like an a.s.s _in_ the rain; so it plainly appears that money is the root of all good;--that's my logic.--I long to see the young rogue tho'--I dare say he looks very like his father;--but, had I thought old Trueman wou'd have us'd me so ill, I wou'd not have wrote for him yet; for he shall not have his old sweetheart:--if he offers to disobey me in this respect, by my body, I'll disinherit the ungracious dog immediately.

[_Exit._

SCENE III. _Another part of LOVEYET'S House._

_DOLLY and THOMAS._

THOMAS. I've set a bowl of grog before him, pretty much to the northward, and a luncheon of bread and beef almost as big as his head; for he said he was consumed hungry.

DOLLY. I language to behold him;--but I'm afraid he'll be rude to a body. [_Enter HUMPHRY, with a large luncheon of bread and b.u.t.ter._]

Oh, as I'm alive, it is Humphry; old Cubb, the miller's son! Now will the great bear be for rumpling and hugging a body, as he us'd to do. [_Aside._

HUMPHRY. How d' ye do again, as the saying is? You're a devilish honest fellow, as I'm a gentleman; and thank 'e for your frugality, with all my heart: I've eaten up all the beef and grog, so I thought I wou'd go to the cupboard, and cut a small slice of bread and b.u.t.ter, d' ye see.

THOMAS. Why didn't you cut yourself a larger slice, while you was about it?

HUMPHRY. Oh, it's big enough, thank 'e; I never eat much at a meal; but if I crave more, I'll speak. [_Sees DOLLY._] Wha--what--Doll! is that you? Oh, the wonderful works of nature! Who'd ha' thought to ha' found you here.

What, don't you know me? not know your old sweetheart? By Job, I want to buss you, most lasciviously.

[_Crams all the bread in his mouth in haste, and offers to kiss her.--THOMAS hinders him._

DOLLY. Oh, oh!

THOMAS. What, do you dare to do such a thing before me, you country brute?

HUMPHRY. Aye, no sooner said than done; that's my way.

THOMAS. But you sha'n't say nor do your lascivious tricks before me, I warrant you.

DOLLY. Oh, the filthy beast! he has frightened me out of my seventy-seven senses; he has given me a fever.

HUMPHRY. I don't care if you'll give me a favour, or not; for I don't value it an old horse-shoe, not I; I can get favours enough in New-York, if I go to the expense.--I know what--I suppose you forget when Jack Wrestle, the country mack-marony--

DOLLY. Oh, oh!

HUMPHRY. Why, in the country you us'd for to kiss me without axing.

DOLLY. I scorn your words, you worthless blackguard; so I do.

[_Cries._

THOMAS. Sir, I'd have you to know, sir, that I won't suffer you, sir, to abuse this young lady, sir, in this manner, sir; and, sir--in short, sir, you're a dirty fellow, for your pains, sir.

HUMPHRY. And you're a great litterly lubber, as the saying is; and if you'll be so friendly as for to fetch the mug of ale you promis'd me, I'll lick you out of pure grat.i.tude: have a care--grog makes me fight like a tyger.

THOMAS. It's a bargain,--I shou'd be sorry to try you; but I'll go lace you ale a little, and that will spoil your fighting, I warrant you.

[_Aside, and exit._

DOLLY. You sha'n't fight him.--Oh, law, I wou'dn't trust myself with him alone, for the riches of the Indians!

[_Exit, after him._

HUMPHRY. [_Mimicking her._] What an unfaithless trollop! She's got to be very vartuous since she's liv'd in town, but vartue is but skin deep, as the saying is:--wou'dn't even let me kiss her;--I meant nothing but the genteel thing neither,--all in an honest way. I wonder what she can see in that clumsy b.o.o.by's face, for to take his part, sooner than I!--but I'll go buy a new coat and breeches, and get my head fricaseed, and my beard comb'd a little, and then I'll cut a dash with the best on 'em. I'll go see where that ill-looking fellow stays with the ale.

[_Exit._

_End of the Second Act._

ACT III.

SCENE I. _A Barber's Shop._

_HUMPHRY in new clothes, reading a newspaper.--TOUPEE shaving him._

HUMPHRY. Pray now, master barber, what does Const.i.tution mean? I hears so many people a quarrelling about it,--I wish I cou'd get somebody to give me the exclamation of it; here it is among the news too. It's spelt C, O, N, con--S, T, I, sti--consti--T, U, tu--const.i.tu--T, I, ti--const.i.tuti--O, N, on--con-sti-tu-ti-on,--but your city folks calls it Const.i.tushon; they've got such a queer p.r.o.nouncication.

TOUPEE. Vat you please, sare?

HUMPHRY. Yes, it pleases me well enough; I only want to know what it magnifies.

TOUPEE. Je ne vous entens pas, monsieur.