SURFACE. I have not the Pleasure of knowing you, Mr. Stanley—but I am extremely happy to see you look so well—you were nearly related to my mother—I think Mr. Stanley——
SIR OLIVER. I was Sir—so nearly that my present Poverty I fear may do discredit to her Wealthy Children—else I should not have presumed to trouble you.—
SURFACE. Dear Sir—there needs no apology—He that is in Distress tho' a stranger has a right to claim kindred with the wealthy—I am sure I wish I was of that class, and had it in my power to offer you even a small relief.
SIR OLIVER. If your Unkle, Sir Oliver were here—I should have a Friend——
SURFACE. I wish He was Sir, with all my Heart—you should not want an advocate with him—believe me Sir.
SIR OLIVER. I should not need one—my Distresses would recommend me.—but I imagined—his Bounty had enabled you to become the agent of his Charity.
SURFACE. My dear Sir—you are strangely misinformed—Sir Oliver is a worthy Man, a worthy man—a very worthy sort of Man—but avarice Mr. Stanley is the vice of age—I will tell you my good Sir in confidence:—what he has done for me has been a mere—nothing[;] tho' People I know have thought otherwise and for my Part I never chose to contradict the Report.
SIR OLIVER. What!—has he never transmitted—you—Bullion—Rupees—Pagodas!
SURFACE. O Dear Sir—Nothing of the kind—no—no—a few Presents now and then—china, shawls, congo Tea, Avadavats—and indian Crackers—little more, believe me.
SIR OLIVER. Here's Gratitude for twelve thousand pounds!—Avadavats and indian Crackers.