Lord Lum. The truth is, Sir Pertinax, my fellow let me sleep too long for the levee.—But I wish I had seen you before you left town—I wanted you dreadfully.
Sir Per. I am heartily sorry that I was not in the way:—but on what account did you want me?
Lord Lum. Ha, ha, ha! a cursed awkward affair.—And, ha, ha, ha! yet I cann't help laughing at it neither—tho' it vext me confoundedly.
Sir Per. Vext you, my lord! Zounds, I wish I had been with you:—but, for heaven's sake, my lord,—what was it, that could possibly vex your lordship?
Lord Lum. Why, that impudent, teasing, dunning rascal, Mahogany, my upholsterer.—You know the fellow?
Sir Per. Perfectly, my lord.
Lord Lum. The impudent scoundrel has sued me up to some damned kind of a—something or other in the law, that I think they call an execution.
Sir Per. The rascal!
Lord Lum. Upon which, sir, the fellow, by way of asking pardon—ha, ha, ha! had the modesty to wait on me two or three days ago, to inform my honour—ha, ha, ha! as he was pleased to dignify me,—that the execution was now ready to be put in force against my honour;—but that out of respect to my honour—as he had taken a great deal of my honour's money— he would not suffer his lawyer to serve it, till he had first informed my honour, because he was not willing to affront my honour; ha, ha, ha! a son of a whore!
SirPer. I never heard of so impudent a dog.