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 passion 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 _Oceanus_, 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 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._