Pet. [Reads.] _If so be you say so, I'll never work for you, never no more. Considering as how your Sunday waistcoat has been turned three times, it doesn't look amiss, and I've charged as little as any tailor of 'em all. You say I must pay for the buckram; but I say, I'll be damn'd if I do. So no more from your loving nephew,_ TIMOTHY TWIST. From Constantinople! Why, cousin Tim writ it. _Char._ Cousin Tim! Who is he? _Pet._ Good lack! Don't you know cousin Tim? Why, he's one of the best tailors in all-- _Char._ A tailor! No, sir, I do not know him. My father was state coachman, and wore his highness's livery. [_Exit._ _Pet._ [_Mimicking._] "My father was state coachman, and wore his Highness's livery"--Well, and cousin Tim could have made his Highness's livery, if you go to that. State coachman, indeed! [_Going._ _Enter SOLOMON._ _Sol._ Peter, you ninny, stay where you are. Is that chattering girl gone? Didn't I tell you we would have a practice of our dance? they are all ready on the lawn. Mark me; I represent the Count, and you the Baron. [_Exit, with affected dignity. PETER follows, mimicking._ SCENE IV. _The Lawn.--Seats placed.--Rustic Music.--Dancers are discovered as ready to perform._ _SOLOMON and PETER enter, and seat themselves._ _A Dance, in which the Dancers pay their reverence to SOLOMON and PETER as they pass. At the end, SOLOMON and PETER strut off before the Dancers._ ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _The Skirts of the Park and Lodge, &c. as before. The STRANGER is discovered on a seat, reading._ _Enter FRANCIS._ _Fra._ Sir, sir, dinner is ready. _Stra._ I want no dinner. _Fra._ I've got something good. _Stra._ Eat it yourself. _Fra._ You are not hungry? _Stra._ No. [_Rises._ _Fra._ Nor I. The heat takes away all appetite. _Stra._ Yes. _Fra._ I'll put it by; perhaps at night-- _Stra._ Perhaps. _Fra._ Dear sir, dare I speak? _Stra._ Speak. _Fra._ You have done a noble action. _Stra._ What? _Fra._ You have saved a fellow creature's life. _Stra._ Peace. _Fra._ Do you know who he was? _Stra._ No. _Fra._ The only son of Count Wintersen. _Stra._ Immaterial. _Fra._ A gentleman, by report, worthy and benevolent as yourself. _Stra._ [_Angry._] Silence! Dare you flatter me? _Fra._ As I look to Heaven for mercy, I speak from my heart. When I observe how you are doing good around you, how you are making every individual's wants your own, and are yet yourself unhappy, alas! my heart bleeds for you. _Stra._ I thank you, Francis. I can only thank you. Yet share this consolation with me:--my sufferings are unmerited. _Fra._ My poor master!