LANDLORD.
Here is wine—a most delicious nectar. [Aside.] It is only Rhenish; but it will pass for the best old Hock.
FREDERICK.
[impatiently snatching the pitcher]. Give it me.
LANDLORD.
No, no—the money first. One shilling and two-pence, if you please.
[Frederick gives him money.]
FREDERICK.
This is all I have.—Here, here, mother.
[While she drinks Landlord counts the money.]
LANDLORD.
Three halfpence too short! However, one must be charitable. [Exit Landlord.
AGATHA.
I thank you, my dear Frederick—Wine revives me—Wine from the hand of my son gives me almost a new life.
FREDERICK.
Don’t speak too much, mother.—Take your time.
AGATHA.
Tell me, dear child, how you have passed the five years since you left me.