Dicky. What errand? Speak, you rogue.
Tom. A fool's errand, I'm afraid.
Clinch. jun. Who sent you?
Tom. A beau, sir.
Dicky. No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him of his clothes.
Clinch. jun. Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor Jubilee brother! Stay, by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir though. Speak, sir, have you killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a crown.
Tom. Who I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir, I never killed any man, but a carrier's horse once.
Clinch. jun. Then you shall certainly be hanged; but confess that you killed him, and we'll let you go.
Tom. Telling the truth hangs a man, but confessing a lie can do no harm: besides, if the worst come to the worst, I can but deny it again.—Well, sir, since I must tell you, I did kill him.
Clinch. jun. Here's your money, sir.—But are you sure you killed him dead?