[Exit Postboy.
Lack. [Comes forward.] By Heaven, my old college chum, Harry Seymour!
Henry. Pray, friend, can you direct me to the best—[Stops, and looks attentively on Lackland.] Is it possible? but I heard something of this—Can you be Charles Lackland?
Lack. How d'ye do, Harry?
Henry. My poor fellow! [With Concern.] But how has all this come about?
Lack. Eh?
Henry. I feel for you, sincerely!
Lack. What d'ye mean? Oh, my—[Looking at his Clothes.] Pshaw! never mind a man's outside; I've a heart within, equally warm to an old friend, in snow, or sunshine.
Henry. That I have passed so many happy, happy days with!
Lack. Have—ay, and will again.