_Shar._ Yes, Sir, My Father was a little displeased with it at first; but upon his being informed that such forward Births were frequent in your Family, he was soon reconciled to it.
_Skin._ They belied our Family, Sir--for our Family----
_Shar._ Hush! hush! Don't expose them. They were always a damned whoring Family; I must confess I have frequently blushed at the quickness of my Mother's conception, for it has often been thrown in my Teeth; but since it has made me your Heir, that will set me above the Disgrace.
_Shar._ Ay, your Heir, Sir. I am come to Town on purpose to take Possession. We had an Account in the Country that you were dead.
_Skin._ And I suppose you are not a little mortified to find the Report is false, ha?
_Shar._ Why, I am sorry to find you alive, I must confess. I was in hopes to have found you stretched out and ready for the black Gentleman to say Grace over you.
_Shar._ May the strawberry Mare knock up the next hard Chace if I have not ridden as hard to be at your Earthing as ever I did to be in at the Death of a Fox.
_Skin._ It was most affectionately done of you, Nephew, and I shall remember you for it.--A Villain! I'll not leave him a Groat. (_Aside_)
_Shar._ However since you are alive, Uncle, I am glad to see you look so ill.
_Skin._ I am very much obliged to you, Nephew. (_Aside to Lucy_) Was there ever such a Reprobate, Lucy?
_Shar._ They tell me you have a damned deal of money that you have got by Extortion and Usury and Cheating of Widows and Orphans to whom you have been Guardian and Executor, ha--but I suppose you intend every Grig of it for me, ha! Old Boy, I'll let it fly. I'll release the yellow Sinners from their Prisons; they shall never be confined by me.
_Shar._ But harkee you, Uncle, my Sister is come to Town too, and she thinks to come in for Snacks--but not a Grig--d'ye hear--not a Grig--I must have every Souse--Cousin Bellair too, that Prig, I hear, is looking out Sharp--But if you leave a Denier to any of them without my Consent you shall be buried alive in one of your own iron Chests, and sent as a present to your old Friend Belzebub.
_Skin._ To be sure, Nephew, you are so very dutiful and affectionate that I shall be entirely directed by you. Lucy, (_Aside to Lucy_) I am afraid this Villain is come to murder me; step in and call Bellair this Instant. (_Exit Lucy_) Pray Nephew, how long have you been in Town?