Sir Geo. Come to the Point, here's the Gold, sum up the Conditions—
Sir Fran. (Pulling out a Paper.)
Miran. (Peeping.) Ay for Heaven's sake do, for my Expectation is on the Rack.
Sir Fran. Well at your own Peril be it.
Sir Geo. Aye, aye, go on.
Sir Fran. Imprimis, you are to be admitted into my House in order to move your Suit to Miranda, for the space of Ten Minutes, without Lett or Molestation, provided I remain in the same Room.
Sir Geo. But out of Ear shot—
Sir Fran. Well, well, I don't desire to hear what you say, Ha, ha, ha, in consideration I am to have that Purse and a hundred Guineas.
Sir Geo. Take it—
(Gives him the Purse.