Hau. Your Reason, your Reason; we shall have thee witty too in thy Drink, hah! [Laughs.
Gload. Why, I say, Sir, none but a Cavalier ought to be soundly drunk, or wear a Sword and Feather; and a Cloke and Band were fitter for a Merchant.
Hau. Salerimente, I’ll beat any Don in Spain that does but think he has more right to any sort of Debauchery, or Gallantry than I, I tell you that now, Gload.
Gload. Do you remember, Sir, how you were wont to go at home? when instead of a Periwig, you wore a slink, greasy Hair of your own, thro which a pair of large thin [Souses] appear’d, to support a formal Hat, on end thus— [Imitates him.
Hau. Ha, ha, ha, the Rogue improves upon’t. [Gives him Brandy.
Gload. A Collar instead of a Cravat twelve inches high; with a blue, stiff, starcht, lawn Band, set in print like your Whiskers; a Doublet with small Skirts hookt to a pair of wide-kneed Breeches, which dangled halfway [over a Leg], all to be dash’d and dirty’d as high as the gartering.
Hau. Ha, ha, ha, very well, proceed. [Drinks.
Gload. Your Hands, defil’d with counting of damn’d dirty Money, never made other use of Gloves, than continually to draw them thro—thus—till they were dwindled into the scantling of a Cats-gut.
Hau. Ha, ha, ha, a pleasant Rascal. [Drinks.
Gload. A Cloke, half a yard shorter than the Breeches, not thorow lin’d, but fac’d as far as ’twas turn’d back, with a pair of frugal [Butter-hams], which was always manag’d—thus—