together, with a power of high relations, you know, and we shall all be fine folks by and bye.—Thou wilt become master-butler or gentleman-valet, or something of that kind, and I shall be head gardener, to be sure, with a man or two to obey my orders: we sha'nt be the same pains-taking folks that we have been, I warrant you, when he is a parliament man.
Rob. Thou'rt always looking after something for thine own advantage, and that puts all those foolish notions into thy noddle. No, no; he has lived too sweetly in his own quiet home, amongst the rustling of his own trees and the prattling of his own infants, to go now into the midst of all that shuffling and changing and making of speeches. He'll never become a parliament man.
Gar. Well then, let him marry Lady Sarah for love if he please, I'll neither make nor meddle in the matter. If she keep a good house, and give good victuals and drink to the people in it, I'll never trouble my head about it.
Rob. Out upon thee, man, with thy victuals and thy drink! Thou'rt worser than a hog. Well should I like, if it were not for the sake of better folks than thee, to see thy greedy chaps exercised upon her feeding.
Gar. What, is she niggardly then, and so fine a lady too?
Rob. Niggardly! she will pull off her wide hoop, and all them there flounces that people go to court in, to search over the house for the value of a candle's
