F. Nay, drive him to his hole.
R.How now, St. Nicholas!
Musing, I think, on thy good fortune, eh?
N. Good morning, Frederick, and, sir, how do you?
R. Fairly, I thank thee, fairly: but in presence
Of happiness like thine, mine goes for nothing.
F. Thou hast been honey-gathering early, sir.
N. I will confess it: that was my pursuit.
F. True to thy beeship, thy belated beeship.
N. Sir!