Dan. Ees, sir;—three boil'd fowls, three roast, two chicken pies, and a capon.
Per. You have considered abundance, more than variety. And the wine?
Dan. A dozen o' capital red port, sir: I ax'd for the newest they had i' the cellar.
Dennis. [To himself.] Six thousand pounds upon a counter!
Per. [To Dan.] Carry the hamper in doors; then return to me instantly. You must accompany me in another excursion.
Dan. What, now?
Per. Yes; to Sir Simon Rochdale's. You are not tired, my honest fellow?
Dan. Na, not a walking wi' you;—but, dang me, when you die, if all the shoemakers shouldn't go into mourning.
[Dan takes the Hamper into the House.
Dennis. [Ruminating.] Six thousand pounds! by St. Patrick, it's a sum!