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Sir S. I know the length of the emperor of China's foot; have kissed the Great Mogul's slipper, and rid a hunting upon an elephant with the cham of Tar. tary.--Body o'me, I have made a cuckold of a king; and the present niajesty of Bantam is the issue of these loins,

For. I know when travellers lie or speak truth, when they don't know it themselves.

Sir S. I have known an astrologer made a cuckold in the twinkling of a star; and seen a conjuror, that could not keep the devil out of his wife's circle.

For. What, does he twit me with my wife too? I must be better informed of this. [Aside. ]-Do you mean my wife, Sir Sampson ? Though you made a cuckold of the king of Bantam, yet by the body of the sun

Sir S. By the horns of the moon, you would say, brother Capricorn.

For. Capricorn in your'teeth, thou modern Mandeville; Ferdinand Mendez Pinto was but a type of thee, thou liar of the first magnitude. Take back your paper of inheritance; send your son to sea again, I'll wed my daughter to an Egyptian mummy, ere she shall incorporate with a contemner of sciences, and a defamer of virtue.

Sir S. Body o'me, I have gone too far-I must not provoke honest Albumazar.-An Egyptian mummy is an illustrious creature, my trusty hieroglyphick; and may have significations of futurity about him. Odsbud, I would my son were an Egyptian nummy for thy sake. What, thou art not angry for a jest, my good Haly?-I reverence the sun, moon, and stars, with all my heart.-What! I'll make thee a present of a mummy. Now I think on’t, body o'me, I have a shoulder of an Egyptian king, that I purloined from one of the pyramids, powdered with hieroglyphicks; thou shalt have it brought home to thy house and make an entertainment for all the Philomaths, and students in physic and astrology, in and about London.

For. But what do you know of my wife, Sir Samp. son?

Sir S. Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she is the moon, and thou art the man in the moon; nay,

she is more illustrious than the moon; for she has her - chastity, without her incontinency: 'sbud, I was but in jest.

Enter JEREMY. Sir S. How now? who sent for you, ha? what would you have ?

For. Nay, if you were but in jest !-Who's that fel. low? I don't like his physiognomy.

Sir S. [To Jeremy.] My son, sir ? what son, sir? my son Benjamin, ha?

Jer. No, sir; Mr. Valentine, my master;-it is the first time he has been abroad since his confinement, and he comes to pay his duty to you. Sir S. Well, sir.

Jer. He is here, sir.

Val. Your blessing, sir!

Sir S. You've had it already, sir; I think I sent it you to-day in a bill of four thousand pounds.-A great deal of money, brother Foresight!

For. Ay, indeed, Sir Sampson, a great deal of money for a young man;' I wonder what he can do with it!

Sir S. Body o'me, so do I. -Hark ye, Valentine, if there be too much, refund the superfluity; dost hear boy?

Val. Superfluity, sir! it will scarce pay my debts. -I hope you will have more indulgence, than to oblige me to those hard conditions which my necessity signed to.

Sir S. Sir! how, I beseech you, what were you pleased to intimate, concerning indulgence ?

Val. Why, sir, that you would not go to the extremity of the conditions, but release me at least from some part.

Sir S. (), sir, I understand you—that's all, ha ?

Val. Yes, sir, all that I presume to ask-But what you, out of fatherly fondness, will be pleased to add, will be doubly welcome.

Sir S. No doubt of it, sweet sir; but your .filial piety and my fatherly fondness would fit like two tallies

--Here's a rogue, brother Foresight, makes a bargain under hand and seal in the morning, and would be released from it in the afternoon? here's a rogue, dog; here's conscience and honesty! This is your wit now, this is the morality of your wit! You

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are a wit, and have been a beau, and may be a-Why, sirrah, is it not here under hand and seal?-Can you deny it?

Val. Sir, I don't deny it.

Sir S. Sirrah, you'll be hang'd; I shall live to see you go up Holborn-hill.-Has he not a rogue's face?

-Speak, brother; you understand physiognomy; a hanging look to me-of all my boys the most unlike me.

He has a damn’d Tyburn face, without the benefit of the clergy.

For. Hum!-truly, I don't care to discourage a young man—he has a violent death in his face; but I hope no danger of hanging.

Val. Sir, is this usage for your son ?-For that old weather-headed fool, I know how to laugh at him; but you, sir

Sir S. You, sir; and you, sir.- Why, who are you, sir?

Val. Your son, sir.

Sir S. That's more than I know, sir: and I believe not.

Val. Faith, I hope not.

Sir S. What, would you have your mother a whore? Did you ever hear the like; did you ever hear the like? body o'me

Val. I would have an excuse for your barbarity and unnatural usage.

Sir S. Excuse ?-Impudence! Why, sirrah, mayn't I do what I pleased are not you my slave? did not I beget you? and might not I have chosen whether


I would have begot you or no? Oons, who are you? whence came you? what brought you into the world ? how came you here, sir? here, to stand here, upon those two legs, and look erect with that audacious face, hah? Answer me that. Did you come a volunteer into the world? or did I, with the lawful authority of a parent, press you to the service?

Val. I know no more why I came, than you do why you called me. But here I am; and if you don't mean to provide for me, I desire you would leave me as you found me.

Sir S. With all my heart. Come, uncase, strip, and go naked out of the world as you came into it.

Val. My clothes are soon put off-but you must also divest me of my reason, thought, passions, inclinations, affections, appetites, senses, and the huge train of attendants that you begot along with me.

Sir S. Body o'me, what a many-headed monster have I propagated!

Val. I am of myself, a plain, easy, simple creature; and to be kept at small expence: but the retinue that you gave me are craving and invincible; they are so many devils that you have raised, and will have employment.

Sir S. Oons, what had I to do to get children? can't a private man be born without all these followersi-Why nothing under an emperor should be born with appetites—why, at this rate, a fellow that has but a groat in his pocket may have a stomach capable of a ten shilling ordinary.

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