from the ditch, than be a garter'd peer in such a home as this.—I had once a home! (beating his heel rapidly upon the floor.)—Well, well, well! I have push'd my bark from the shore, and I must take wind and tide as they set.
(Enter Servant.)
Who comes to disturb me now?
Ser. A packet, please your honour, from Mr. Plausible.
Sea. (eagerly.) Ha! give it me. (Exit Ser.) Yes, it is the plan. (tearing off the cover.) I hold in my hand perhaps, that which shall put every domestic arrangement on such an ample footing, as must extinguish these petty broils, (a pause, and then his countenance lightening up eagerly.) Ah, do I indeed grasp in this handful of paper the embryo of my future fortune? In faith I could almost believe that I do! Let me go to my closet and examine it.
(Exit.
SCENE V. A room in the inn. Enter Seabright and Landlady speaking as they enter.
Sea. So, Mr. Plausible is not yet come?
Land. No, your honour, not as I know of. There is a dark-looking, lank gentleman in the cow-yard, just now, asking our Bridget how many pounds of butter may be made out of one cow's milk in a year, and such like, and setting all that she says down in his pocket book. He, he, he! poor thing, she scarcely knows a cow from a sheep,
