Skin. My Heir!
Shar. Ay, your Heir, Sir. I am come to Town on purpose to take Possession. We had an Account in the Country that you were dead.
Skin. And I suppose you are not a little mortified to find the Report is false, ha?
Shar. Why, I am sorry to find you alive, I must confess. I was in hopes to have found you stretched out and ready for the black Gentleman to say Grace over you.
Skin. Sir, your Servant.
Shar. May the strawberry Mare knock up the next hard Chace if I have not ridden as hard to be at your Earthing as ever I did to be in at the Death of a Fox.
Skin. It was most affectionately done of you, Nephew, and I shall remember you for it.—A Villain! I'll not leave him a Groat. (Aside)
Shar. However since you are alive, Uncle, I am glad to see you look so ill.
Skin. I am very much obliged to you, Nephew. (Aside to Lucy) Was there ever such a Reprobate, Lucy?
Shar. They tell me you have a damned deal of money that you have got by Extortion and Usury and Cheating of Widows and Orphans to whom you have been Guardian and Executor, ha—but I suppose you intend every Grig of it for me, ha! Old Boy, I'll let it fly. I'll release the yellow Sinners from their Prisons; they shall never be confined by me.