[Gives a Guinea.
Lack. Sir, I am eternally obliged to you.—I fancy I may pass in these clothes, eh?
Sir J. B. Yes, yes, you may pass—[Aside.]—for a shoplifter.
Lack. Waiter! [Calling.]—If you'll give me leave, I'll treat you with a flask of most excellent champagne.
[Goes to Tavern.
Sir J. B. Treat with champagne! my own money too!—champagne! and I doubt if the fellow has got a shirt to his ruffles.
Lack. Upon my soul, you're a very fine old gentleman!—mind my advice—I warn you against our countrymen—they'll only borrow your money, and laugh at you after!—Ha! ha! ha!
Sir J. B. Ha! ha! ha! So they'll laugh at me after! Ha! ha! ha!
Lack. Now you know their tricks; mind you keep your hand on your cash.
Sir J. B. Yes, yes; the moment they talk of Throgmorton Street, you may be sure I will, ha! ha! ha!