Chas. Surf. Very true, and paying them is only encouraging them.

Care. Nothing else.

Chas. Surf. Ay, ay, never fear.—[Exit Careless.] So! this was an odd old fellow, indeed. Let me see, two-thirds of these five hundred and thirty odd pounds are mine by right.’ Fore Heaven! I find one’s ancestors are more valuable relations than I took them for!—Ladies and gentlemen, your most obedient and very grateful servant.

[Bows ceremoniously to the pictures.

Enter Rowley.

Ha! old Rowley! egad, you are just come in time to take leave of your old acquaintances.

Row. Yes, I heard they were a-going. But I wonder you can have such spirits under so many distresses.

Chas. Surf. Why, there’s the point! my distresses are so many, that I can’t afford to part with my spirits; but I shall be rich and splenetic, all in good time. However, I suppose you are surprised that I am not more sorrowful at parting with so many near relations; to be sure, ’tis very affecting; but you see they never move a muscle, so why should I?

Row. There’s no making you serious a moment.

Chas. Surf. Yes, faith, I am so now. Here, my honest Rowley, here, get me this changed directly, and take a hundred pounds of it immediately to old Stanley.

Row. A hundred pounds! Consider only—

Chas. Surf. Gad’s life, don’t talk about it! poor Stanley’s wants are pressing, and, if you don’t make haste, we shall have some one call that has a better right to the money.

Row. Ah! there’s the point! I never will cease dunning you with the old proverb—

Chas. Surf. Be just before you’re generous.—Why, so I would if I could; but Justice is an old hobbling beldame, and I can’t get her to keep pace with Generosity, for the soul of me.

Row. Yet, Charles, believe me, one hour’s reflection—

Chas. Surf. Ay, ay, it’s very true; but, hark’ee, Rowley, while I have, by Heaven I’ll give; so, damn your economy! and now for hazard.

[Exeunt.

Scene II.—Another room in the same.

Enter Sir Oliver Surface and Moses.

Mos. Well, sir, I think, as Sir Peter said, you have seen Mr. Charles in high glory; ’tis great pity he’s so extravagant.

Sir Oliv. True, but he would not sell my picture.

Mos. And loves wine and women so much.

Sir Oliv. But he would not sell my picture.