Sir Oliv. Sir, I hear your uncle Oliver is expected here, and though he has been so penurious to you, I’ll try what he’ll do for me.

Jos. Surf. Sir, ’tis impossible for you to stay now, so I must beg —Come any other time, and I promise you, you shall be assisted.

Sir Oliv. No: Sir Oliver and I must be acquainted.

Jos. Surf. Zounds, sir! then I insist on your quitting the room directly.

Sir Oliv. Nay, sir—

Jos. Surf. Sir, I insist on’t!—Here, William! show this gentleman out. Since you compel me, sir, not one moment—this is such insolence.

[Going to push him out.

Enter Charles Surface.

Chas. Surf. Heyday! what’s the matter now? What the devil have you got hold of my little broker here? Zounds, brother, don’t hurt little Premium. What’s the matter, my little fellow?

Jos. Surf. So! he has been with you, too, has he?

Chas. Surf. To be sure he has. Why, he’s as honest a little—But sure, Joseph, you have not been borrowing money too, have you?

Jos. Surf. Borrowing! no! But, brother, you know we expect Sir Oliver here every—

Chas. Surf. O Gad, that’s true! Noll mustn’t find the little broker here, to be sure.

Jos. Surf. Yet, Mr. Stanley insists—

Chas. Surf. Stanley! why his name’s Premium.

Jos. Surf. No, sir, Stanley.

Chas. Surf. No, no, Premium.

Jos. Surf. Well, no matter which—but—

Chas. Surf. Ay, ay, Stanley or Premium, ’tis the same thing, as you say; for I suppose he goes by half a hundred names, besides A. B. at the coffee-house.

[Knocking.

Jos. Surf. ’Sdeath! here’s Sir Oliver at the door. Now I beg, Mr. Stanley—

Chas. Surf. Ay, ay, and I beg, Mr. Premium—

Sir Oliv. Gentlemen—

Jos. Surf. Sir, by heaven you shall go!

Chas. Surf. Ay, out with him, certainly!

Sir Oliv. This violence—