(_Enter_ LUCY)

_Skin._ O Lucy, give me a little Inlap or Hartshorn or something to raise my Spirits. Had ever Man so happy an Escape?

_Lucy._ Ay, Sir, you'd say it was a happy Escape indeed, if you knew all; why Sir, it is whispered everywhere that she had an Intrigue last Summer at Scarborough with a Captain of Horse.

_Skin._ I don't in the least doubt it; she who could give Ratsbane or Laudanum to her Husband, I believe would not hesitate at a little Fornication.

(SHARK _without, dressed like a Fox Hunter, drunk, knocking very loud and hollowing_)

_Shar._ Haux, haux, haux, my Honies, Heyhe! House, where the Devil are you all?

_Skin._ Bless us, who is it knocks so? ([_knocking_] _within_)

_Lucy._ The Lord knows, Sir, some Madman I believe--It is Shark, I suppose. (_Aside_)

(_Enter_ SHARK)

_Shar._ Hey House! Family! Where are you all?

_Lucy._ What do you want, Sir?

_Shar._ What's that to you, Hussy? Where's Skinflint?

_Lucy._ Skinflint!

_Shar._ Ay, Skinflint.

_Lucy._ There is my Master, Sir Isaac Skinflint, in that great Chair.

_Shar._ (_Going up to him looking in his Face and laughing_) A d.a.m.ned odd Sort of a Figure: a cursed queer old Fellow to look at. Is your name Skinflint?

_Skin._ It is, Sir.

_Shar._ Then give me you Hand, old Boy. (_Shakes him by the Flannels_)

_Skin._ Hold, hold, Sir, you'll kill me if you han't a Care.

_Shar._ So much the better; the sooner you die the better for me.

_Skin._ For you? Pray, Sir, who are you?

_Shar._ Your Nephew who has rid a hundred Miles on purpose to take Possession of your Estate.

_Skin._ Are you my Nephew?

_Shar._ Yes, Sir.

_Skin._ I am sorry for it.

_Shar._ My Name is b.u.mper; my Father, Sir Barnaby b.u.mper, took to Wife a Lady who as I have been told was your Sister; which said Sister, Sir, brought me into the World in less than four Months after her Marriage.

_Skin._ In four Months?

_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 d.a.m.ned 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.

_Skin._ My Heir!

_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.

_Skin._ Sir, your Servant.

_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 d.a.m.ned 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.

_Skin._ I believe you, Nephew.

_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?

_Shar._ I came to Town late last Night--and hearing you were alive, I was resolved I would not sleep 'till I had seen you. So I went amongst the Coffee Houses at Covent Garden where I made a charming Riot; I fought a Duel, beat the Watch, kicked the Bawds, broke their Punch Bowls, clapt an old Market Woman upon her Head in the middle of a Kennel, bullied a Justice, and made all the Wh.o.r.es as drunk----

_Skin._ As yourself, I suppose. Upon my word, Nephew, you have made good use of your time since you have been in Town.

_Shar._ Ay, han't I, old Skinflint? Zounds I love a Riot; don't you love a Riot, Uncle?

_Skin._ O most pa.s.sionately.

_Shar._ Give me your Hand. (_Slaps him upon the Shoulder_) Old Boy, I love you for that.

_Skin._ O, O, O, O, he has killed me; I am murdered.

_Shar._ Rot your old crazy Carca.s.s, what do you cry out for, ha?