_Pereg._ I acknowledge it;--yet, I have seen prosperity; though I traversed many countries, on my outset, in pain and poverty. Chance, at length, raised me a friend in India; by whose interest, and my own industry, I amass'd considerable wealth, in the Factory at Calcutta. _Job._ And have just landed it, I suppose, in England. _Pereg._ I landed one hundred pounds, last night, in my purse, as I swam from the Indiaman, which was splitting on a rock, half a league from the neighbouring shore. As for the rest of my property--bills, bonds, cash, jewels--the whole amount of my toil and application, are, by this time, I doubt not, gone to the bottom; and Peregrine is returned, after thirty years, to pay his debt to you, almost as poor as he left you. _Job._ I won't touch a penny of your hundred pounds--not a penny. _Pereg._ I do not desire you: I only desire you to take your own. _Job._ My own? _Pereg._ Yes; I plunged with this box, last night, into the waves. You see, it has your name on it. _Job._ "Job Thornberry," sure enough. And what's in it? _Pereg._ The harvest of a kind man's charity!--the produce of your bounty to one, whom you thought an orphan. I have traded, these twenty years, on ten guineas (which, from the first, I had set apart as yours), till they have become ten thousand: take it; it could not, I find, come more opportunely. Your honest heart gratified itself in administering to my need; and I experience that burst of pleasure, a grateful man enjoys, in relieving my reliever. [_Giving him the Box._ _Job._ [_Squeezes PEREGRINE'S Hand, returns the Box, and seems almost unable to utter._] Take it again. _Pereg._ Why do you reject it? _Job._ I'll tell you, as soon as I'm able. T'other day, I lent a friend----Pshaw, rot it! I'm an old fool! [_Wiping his Eyes._]--I lent a friend, t'other day, the whole profits of my trade, to save him from sinking. He walk'd off with them, and made me a bankrupt. Don't you think he is a rascal? _Pereg._ Decidedly so. _Job._ And what should I be, if I took all you have saved in the world, and left you to shift for yourself? _Pereg._ But the case is different. This money is, in fact, your own. I am inur'd to hardships; better able to bear them, and am younger than you. Perhaps, too, I still have prospects of---- _Job._ I won't take it. I'm as thankful to you, as if I left you to starve: but I won't take it. _Pereg._ Remember, too, you have claims upon you, which I have not. My guide, as I came hither, said, you had married in my absence: 'tis true, he told me you were now a widower; but, it seems, you have a daughter to provide for. _Job._ I have no daughter to provide for now! _Pereg._ Then he misinform'd me. _Job._ No, he didn't. I had one last night; but she's gone. _Pereg._ Gone!