CHARLES. I'm sorry for't, for you certainly will not have it. Oons, haven't you got enough of them?
SIR OLIVER. [Aside.] I forgive him everything!—[Aloud.] But, Sir, when I take a whim in my head, I don't value money. I'll give you as much for that as for all the rest.
CHARLES. Don't tease me, master broker; I tell you I'll not part with it, and there's an end of it.
SIR OLIVER. [Aside.] How like his father the dog is.—[Aloud.] Well, well, I have done.—[Aside.] I did not perceive it before, but I think I never saw such a striking resemblance.—[Aloud.] Here is a draught for your sum.
CHARLES. Why, 'tis for eight hundred pounds!
SIR OLIVER. You will not let Sir Oliver go?
CHARLES. Zounds! no! I tell you, once more.
SIR OLIVER. Then never mind the difference, we'll balance that another time. But give me your hand on the bargain; you are an honest fellow, Charles—I beg pardon, sir, for being so free.—Come, Moses.
CHARLES. Egad, this is a whimsical old fellow!—But hark'ee, Premium, you'll prepare lodgings for these gentlemen.
SIR OLIVER. Yes, yes, I'll send for them in a day or two.