Wild. You are?
Sir Tim. I am.
Wild. Death, I’ll rob.
Sir Tim. Do and be hang’d.
Wild. Nay, I’ll turn Papist.
Sir Tim. Do and be damn’d.
Sir Char. Bless me, Sir, what a Scandal would that be to the Family of the Treat-alls!
Sir Tim. Hum! I had rather indeed he turn’d Turk or Jew, for his own sake; but as for scandalizing me, I defy it: My Integrity has been known ever since Forty one; I bought three Thousand a year in Bishops Lands, as ’.is well known, and lost it at the King’s return; for which I’m honour’d by the City. But for his farther Satisfaction, Consolation, and Destruction, know, That I Sir Timothy Treat-all, Knight and Alderman, do think my self young enough to marry, d’ye see, and will wipe your Nose with a Son and Heir of my own begetting, and so forth. [Going away.
Wild. Death! marry!
Sir Char. Patience, dear Tom, or thou’t spoil all.