SIR OLIVER. Indeed! this is the first I've heard of it.
CHARLES. Yes, yes, 'tis just so. Moses knows 'tis true; don't you, Moses?
MOSES. Oh, yes! I'll swear to't.
SIR OLIVER. Egad, they'll persuade me presently I'm at Bengal. [Aside.]
CHARLES. Now I propose, Mr. Premium, if it's agreeable to you, a post-obit on Sir Oliver's life: though at the same time the old fellow has been so liberal to me, that I give you my word, I should be very sorry to hear that anything had happened to him.
SIR OLIVER. Not more than I should, I assure you. But the bond you mention happens to be just the worst security you could offer me—for I might live to a hundred and never see the principal.
CHARLES. Oh, yes, you would! the moment Sir Oliver dies, you know, you would come on me for the money.
SIR OLIVER. Then I believe I should be the most unwelcome dun you ever had in your life.
CHARLES. What! I suppose you're afraid that Sir Oliver is too good a life?
SIR OLIVER. No, indeed I am not; though I have heard he is as hale and healthy as any man of his years in Christendom.