Little. What between you and Death, I suppose. Ha! Your Will, I reckon you mean.
Skin. Dear Mr. Littlewit, your Jest is very ill timed; I mean, Sir, my marriage Articles with Harriet Lovewealth, and at the same time I intend to make my Will too; here are the Directions in this Paper for both; and let them be drawn up as soon as possible and looked over by my old Friend, Doctor Leatherhead; and pray bring him with you this Afternoon.
Little. Sir, your Directions shall be observed with Punctuality and Expedition.(Exit)
Skin. So you approve of my Marriage, you say, Nephew?
Bell. I think it the best thing you can do, Sir.
Skin. Why, Nephew, notwithstanding—I am so shattered with Age—and Infirmities—I assure you I have more Vigour than People imagine; what think you, Lucy?
Lucy. Your Eyes, Sir, look very sparkling and lively—but I think a—um—your other parts are not quite so brisk.
Skin. Why ay, 'tis true, my other parts are a little—a little morbific or so, as the Doctors say; but Harriet is very young, and she will be a charming Bedfellow. Besides, Nephew, I have a great Satisfaction in Disappointing my Crew of Relations, who have been like as many Undertakers for these twenty years past, enquiring not after my Health but my Death; but I'll be revenged on them. I will have the Pleasure of sending for 'em all, one by one, and assuring them I will not leave a single Shilling among them.
(Enter a SERVANT)
Serv. Sir, My Lady Lovewealth and her Daughter are come to wait on you.