SIR SAMPSON, VALENTINE, SCANDAL, JEREMY.
SIR SAMP. Hold, hold, don’t you go yet.
SCAN. You’d better let him go, sir, and send for him if there be
occasion; for I fancy his presence provokes him more.
VAL. Is the lawyer gone? ’Tis well, then we may drink about without
going together by the ears—heigh ho! What a’clock is’t? My father here!
Your blessing, sir.
SIR SAMP. He recovers—bless thee, Val; how dost thou do, boy?
VAL. Thank you, sir, pretty well. I have been a little out of order,
Won’t you please to sit, sir?
SIR SAMP. Ay, boy. Come, thou shalt sit down by me.
VAL. Sir, ’tis my duty to wait.
SIR SAMP. No, no; come, come, sit thee down, honest Val. How dost thou
do? Let me feel thy pulse. Oh, pretty well now, Val. Body o’ me, I was
sorry to see thee indisposed; but I’m glad thou art better, honest Val.
VAL. I thank you, sir.
SCAN. Miracle! The monster grows loving. [_Aside_.]
SIR SAMP. Let me feel thy hand again, Val. It does not shake; I believe
thou canst write, Val. Ha, boy? thou canst write thy name, Val. Jeremy,
step and overtake Mr. Buckram, bid him make haste back with the
conveyance; quick, quick. [_In whisper to_ JEREMY.]