CHARLES. Oh, no!--there can be no doubt. They tell me I'm
a prodigious favourite, and that he talks of leaving me everything.

SIR OLIVER. Indeed! this is the first I've heard of it.

CHARLES. Yes, yes, 'tis just so. Moses knows 'tis true; don't you,
Moses?

MOSES. Oh, yes! I'll swear to't.

SIR OLIVER. Egad, they'll persuade me presently I'm at Bengal.
[Aside.]

CHARLES. Now I propose, Mr. Premium, if it's agreeable to you,
a post-obit on Sir Oliver's life: though at the same time the old
fellow has been so liberal to me, that I give you my word, I should
be very sorry to hear that anything had happened to him.

SIR OLIVER. Not more than I should, I assure you. But the bond you
mention happens to be just the worst security you could offer me--
for I might live to a hundred and never see the principal.

CHARLES. Oh, yes, you would! the moment Sir Oliver dies, you know,
you would come on me for the money.

SIR OLIVER. Then I believe I should be the most unwelcome dun
you ever had in your life.

CHARLES. What! I suppose you're afraid that Sir Oliver is too good