Shuff. Yes, you look so. Sir Simon Rochdale in bed? Mr. Rochdale not risen? Well! no matter; I have travelled all night, though, to be with them. How are they?
John. Sir, they are both——
Shuff. I'm glad to hear it. Pay the postboy for me.
John. Yes, sir. I beg pardon, sir; but when your honour last left us——
Shuff. Owed you three pound five. I remember: have you down in my memorandums—Honourable Tom Shuffleton debtor to—— What's your name?
John. My christian name, sir, is——
Shuff. Muggins—I recollect. Pay the postboy, Muggins. And, harkye, take particular care of the chaise: I borrowed it of my friend, Bobby Fungus, who sprang up a peer, in the last bundle of Barons: if a single knob is knocked out of his new coronets, he'll make me a sharper speech than ever he'll produce in parliament. And, John!
John. Sir!
Shuff. What was I going to say?
John. Indeed, sir, I can't tell.