And came to live close by me: for little or nought but that
Occasioned it, as you know: yet my respect for you,
Or else your being a neighbour, for that itself, I take it,
Counts in some sort as friendship, makes me bold and free
To give you a piece of advice: the fact is, you seem to me
To be working here in a manner, which both to your time of life
And station, is most unsuitable. What, in Heaven’s name,
Can be your object? what do you drive at? To guess your age
You are sixty years at least. There’s no one hereabouts
Can shew a better farm, nor more servants upon it: