Lack. I know the world, sir—I have had rent rolls, lands, tenements, hereditaments, mansions, arables, pastures, streams, stewards, beasts, tenants, quarter-days, and such other incumbrances.
Sir J. B. What, and you've got rid of them all?
Lack. Oh, yes.
Sir J. B. You're a devilish clever fellow:—but couldn't you have got your teeth drawn at the same time?—I suppose, now, you've little use for them.
Lack. Ha! ha! ha! very clever—smart and clever!—Oh, you vile dog! [Aside.] As you're English, I feel an attachment;—harkye—a damned sharping place, this—you may profit by my advice; avoid strangers, particularly our own countrymen;—all upon the sharp—they'll introduce themselves, intrude their conversation, amuse you with some flam of their families, and spending fortunes, and losses; and the story generally ends in borrowing money from you, that is, if you are fool enough to lend it.—Now, my dear sir, 'tis my pleasure to warn a gentleman, like you, of the tricks and deceptions, of these sort of fellows.
Sir J. B. I'm very much obliged to you—give me your hand—will you eat a bit of mutton with us?
Lack. Sir, I should be proud of the honour, but something awkward—this dishabille!—and as I understand you have ladies, you know, they expect a man—the fellow here over the way, detains a handsome suit of mine, only for—sir, if you could oblige me with a guinea, I should repay you with many thanks.
Sir J. B. What, when the arables come back!—A guinea—well, I don't mind as far as—distress in a strange country, is—what's your name?
Lack. Lackland, at your service.
Sir J. B. A guinea, you say—there, Mr. Lackland——