e sun
shines _against_ a rainy day, when I shall be upon my last legs, than to
work and toil like an ass _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 butter._]
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 butter, 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,