FREDERICK. Ill, and I was not with you? I will, now, never leave you
more. Look, mother, how tall and strong I am grown. There arms can
now afford you support. They can, and shall, procure you subsistence.

[Landlord coming out of the house
with a small pitcher.]

LANDLORD. Here is wine--a most delicious nectar. [Aside.] It is only
Rhenish; but it will pass for the best old Hock.

FREDERICK [impatiently snatching the pitcher]. Give it me.

LANDLORD. No, no--the money first. One shilling and two-pence, if you
please.

[Frederick gives him money.]

FREDERICK. This is all I have.--Here, here, mother.

[While she drinks Landlord counts the money.]

LANDLORD. Three halfpence too short! However, one must be charitable.
[Exit Landlord.

AGATHA. I thank you, my dear Frederick--Wine revives me--Wine from the
hand of my son gives me almost a new life.

FREDERICK. Don't speak too much, mother.--Take your time.