yourself too I suppose--

CHARLES. Not that I know of, Sir Oliver.

SIR OLIVER. What[!] little Premium has been let too much into the
secret I presume.

CHARLES. True--Sir--but they were Family Secrets, and should not be
mentioned again you know.

ROWLEY. Come Sir Oliver I know you cannot speak of Charles's Follies
with anger.

SIR OLIVER. Odd's heart no more I can--nor with gravity either--
Sir Peter do you know the Rogue bargain'd with me for all his
Ancestors--sold me judges and Generals by the Foot, and Maiden Aunts
as cheap as broken China!

CHARLES. To be sure, Sir Oliver, I did make a little free with
the Family Canvas that's the truth on't:--my Ancestors may certainly
rise in judgment against me there's no denying it--but believe me
sincere when I tell you, and upon my soul I would not say so if I was
not--that if I do not appear mortified at the exposure of my Follies,
it is because I feel at this moment the warmest satisfaction in seeing
you, my liberal benefactor.

SIR OLIVER. Charles--I believe you--give me your hand again:
the ill-looking little fellow over the Couch has made your Peace.

CHARLES. Then Sir--my Gratitude to the original is still encreased.