_Land._ Gone!—gone, indeed, in my house! and this is the way I’m to be treated! Is it so? I couldn’t but speak, your worship, to such an inhuman like, out o’ the way, scandalous charge, if King George and all the Royal Family were sitting in your worship’s chair, beside you, to silence me (_turning to the Old Man_). And this is your gratitude, forsooth! Didn’t you tell me that any hole in my house was good enough for you, wheedling hypocrite? And the thanks I receive is to call me and mine a pack of thieves. _Old M._ Oh, no, no, no, _No_—a pack of thieves, by no means. _Land._ Ay, I thought when _I_ came to speak we should have you upon your marrow-bones in— _Just._ (_imperiously_). Silence! Five times have I commanded silence, and five times in vain; and I won’t command anything five times in vain—_that’s poz_! _Land._ (_in a pet_, _aside_). Old Poz! (_aloud_). Then, your worship, I don’t see any business I have to be waiting here; the folks want me at home (returning and whispering). Shall I send the goose-pie up, your worship, if it’s ready? _Just._ (_with magnanimity_). I care not for the goose-pie, Mrs. Bustle. Do not talk to me of goose-pies; this is no place to talk of pies. _Land._ Oh, for that matter, your worship knows best, to be sure. (_Exit Landlady_, _angry_.) SCENE III. JUSTICE HEADSTRONG, OLD MAN _and_ LUCY. _Lucy._ Ah, now, I’m glad he can speak; now tell papa; and you need not be afraid to speak to him, for he is very good-natured. Don’t contradict him, though, because he told _me_ not. _Just._ Oh, darling, _you_ shall contradict me as often as you please—only not before I’ve drunk my chocolate, child—hey! Go on, my good friend; you see what it is to live in Old England, where, thank Heaven, the poorest of His Majesty’s subjects may have justice, and speak his mind before the first in the land. Now speak on; and you hear she tells you that you need not be afraid of me. Speak on. _Old M._ I thank your worship, I’m sure. _Just._ Thank me! for what, sir? I won’t be thanked for doing justice, sir; so—but explain this matter. You lost your money, hey, at the “Saracen’s Head”? You had it safe last night, hey?—and you missed it this morning? Are you sure you had it safe at night? _Old M._ Oh, please your worship, quite sure; for I took it out and looked at it just before I said my prayers. _Just._ You did—did ye so?—hum! Pray, my good friend, where might you put your money when you went to bed? _Old M._ Please, your worship, where I always put it—always—in my tobacco-box. _Just._ Your tobacco-box! I never heard of such a thing—to make a _strong box_ of a tobacco-box. Ha! ha! ha! hum!—and you say the box and all were gone in the morning? _Old M._ No, please your worship, no; not the box—the box was never stirred from the place where I put it. They left me the box.