Lor. What, are you resolv'd?
Moc. We are e'en at a point, sir.
Lor. What's more to be done, let's in and consider. [Exeunt.
Enter Antiquary and Petro.
Ant. Well, sirrah! but that I have brought you up, I would cashier you for these reproofs.
Pet. Good sir, consider, 'tis no benefit to me: he is your nephew that I speak for, and 'tis charity to relieve him.
Ant. He is a young knave, and that's crime enough; and he were old in anything, though 'twere in iniquity, there were some reverence to be had of him.
Pet. Why, sir, though he be a young knave, as you term him, yet he is your kinsman, and in distress too.
Ant. Why, sir, and you know again, that 'tis an old custom (which thing I will no way transgress) for a rich man not to look upon any as his kinsman in distress.
Pet. 'Tis an ill custom, sir, and 'twere good 'twere repealed.