but you must not mind it, Thomas, I mean you no unkindness.
Thom. Lord love you, sir! I know that very well! a young gentleman who takes an old man into his service, because other gentlemen do not think him quick enough, nor smart enough for them, as your honour has taken me, can never mean to show him any unkindness, I know it well enough; I am only uneasy because I fear you are not so well of late.
Har. I thank you, Thomas, I am not very well—I am not ill neither, I shall be better. (Pauses.) I think I have heard you say, you were a soldier in your youth?
Thom. Yes, sir.
Har. And you had a wife too, a woman of fiery mettle, to bear about your napsack?
Thom. Yes, sir, my little stout spirity Jane; she had a devil of a temper, to be sure.
Har. Yet you loved her notwithstanding?
Thom. Yes, to be sure, I did, as it were, bear her some kindness.
Har. I'll be sworn you did!—and you would have been very sorry to have parted with her.
Thom. Why death parts the best of friends, sir; we lived but four years together.
Har. And so, your little spirity Jane was taken so soon away from you? Give me thy hand, my good Thomas. (Takes his hand and presses it.)
Thom. (Perceiving tears in his eyes.) Lord, sir! dont be so distress'd about it; she did die, to be
