Jarvis. There's that ten guineas you were sending to the poor gentleman and his children in the Fleet. I believe that would stop his mouth for a while at least.
Honeyw. Ay, Jarvis, but what will fill their mouths in the meantime? Must I be cruel because he happens to be importunate; and, to relieve his avarice, leave them to insupportable distress?
Jarvis. 'Sdeath, sir, the question now is, how to relieve yourself. Yourself—Haven't I reason to be out of my senses, when I see things going at sixes and sevens?
Honeyw. Whatever reason you may have for being out of your senses, I hope you'll allow that I'm not quite unreasonable for continuing in mine.
Jarvis. You're the only man alive in your present situation that could do so—Every thing upon the waste. There's Miss Richland and her fine fortune gone already, and upon the point of being given to your rival.
Honeyw. I'm no man's rival.
Jarvis. Your uncle in Italy preparing to disinherit you; your own fortune almost spent; and nothing but pressing creditors, false friends, and a pack of drunken servants that your kindness has made unfit for any other family.
Honeyw. Then they have the more occasion for being in mine.
Jarvis. So! What will you have done with him that I caught stealing your plate in the pantry? In the fact; I caught him in the fact.
Honeyw. In the fact? If so, I really think that we should pay him his wages, and turn him off.