But that's sufficient. 'Twere injustice to doubt the
honour of Sir Joseph Wittoll.
SIR JO. O Lord, sir.
SHARP. You are above, I'm sure, a thought so low, to suffer me to
lose what was ventured in your service; nay, 'twas in a manner paid
down for your deliverance; 'twas so much lent you. And you scorn,
I'll say that for you -
SIR JO. Nay, I'll say that for myself, with your leave, sir, I do
scorn a dirty thing. But, agad, I'm a little out of pocket at
present.
SHARP. Pshaw, you can't want a hundred pound. Your word is
sufficient anywhere. 'Tis but borrowing so much dirt. You have
large acres, and can soon repay it. Money is but dirt, Sir Joseph-
-mere dirt.
SIR JO. But, I profess, 'tis a dirt I have washed my hands of at
present; I have laid it all out upon my Back.
SHARP. Are you so extravagant in clothes, Sir Joseph?
SIR JO. Ha, ha, ha, a very good jest, I profess, ha, ha, ha, a
very good jest, and I did not know that I had said it, and that's a
better jest than t'other. 'Tis a sign you and I ha'n't been long
acquainted; you have lost a good jest for want of knowing me--I
only mean a friend of mine whom I call my Back; he sticks as close
to me, and follows me through all dangers--he is indeed back,
breast, and head-piece, as it were, to me.
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