Sir Tim. Good Lord! Ay, ay, ‘tis so; the plaguy Rogue my Nephew has got her. That Heaven shou’d drop such Blessings in the Mouths of the wicked! Well, Jervice, what Company have we in the House, Jervice?
Jer. Why, truly, Sir, a fine deal, considering there’s no Parliament.
Sir Tim. What Lords have we, Jervice?
Jer. Lords, Sir, truly none.
Sir Tim. None! what, ne’er a Lord! some mishap will befall me, some dire mischance! Ne’er a Lord! ominous, ominous! our Party dwindles daily. What, nor Earl, nor Marquess, nor Duke, nor ne’er a Lord! Hum, my Wine will lie most villanously upon my Hands to Night. Jervice, what, have we store of Knights and Gentlemen?
Jer. I know not what Gentlemen there be, Sir; but there are Knights, Citizens, their Wives and Daughters.
Sir Tim. Make us thankful for that; our Meat will not lie upon our Hands then, Jervice: I’ll say that for our little Londoners, they are as tall Fellows at a well-charg’d Board as any in Christendom.
Jer. Then, Sir, there’s Nonconformist-Parsons.
Sir Tim. Nay, then we shall have a clear Board; for your true
Protestant Appetite in a Lay-Elder, does a Man’s Table Credit.
Jer. Then, Sir, there’s Country Justices and Grand-Jury-Men.