SIR JO. Zooks, would the captain would come; the very remembrance makes me quake; agad, I shall never be reconciled to this place heartily. SHARP. ’Tis but trying, and being where I am at worst, now luck!—cursed fortune! this must be the place, this damned unlucky place— SIR JO. Agad, and so ’tis. Why, here has been more mischief done, I perceive. SHARP. No, ’tis gone, ’tis lost—ten thousand devils on that chance which drew me hither; ay, here, just here, this spot to me is hell; nothing to be found, but the despair of what I’ve lost. [_Looking about as in search_.] SIR JO. Poor gentleman! By the Lord Harry I’ll stay no longer, for I have found too— SHARP. Ha! who’s that has found? What have you found? Restore it quickly, or by— SIR JO. Not I, sir, not I; as I’ve a soul to be saved, I have found nothing but what has been to my loss, as I may say, and as you were saying, sir. SHARP. Oh, your servant, sir; you are safe, then, it seems. ’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody good. Well, you may rejoice over my ill fortune, since it paid the price of your ransom. SIR JO. I rejoice! agad, not I, sir: I’m very sorry for your loss, with all my heart, blood and guts, sir; and if you did but know me, you’d ne’er say I were so ill-natured. SHARP. Know you! Why, can you be so ungrateful to forget me? SIR JO. O Lord, forget him! No, no, sir, I don’t forget you—because I never saw your face before, agad. Ha, ha, ha! SHARP. How! [_Angrily_.] SIR JO. Stay, stay, sir, let me recollect—he’s a damned angry fellow—I believe I had better remember him, until I can get out of his sight; but out of sight out of mind, agad. [_Aside_.] SHARP. Methought the service I did you last night, sir, in preserving you from those ruffians, might have taken better root in your shallow memory. SIR JO. Gads-daggers-belts-blades and scabbards, this is the very gentleman! How shall I make him a return suitable to the greatness of his merit? I had a pretty thing to that purpose, if he ha’n’t frighted it out of my memory. Hem! hem! sir, I most submissively implore your pardon for my transgression of ingratitude and omission; having my entire dependence, sir, upon the superfluity of your goodness, which, like an inundation, will, I hope, totally immerge the recollection of my error, and leave me floating, in your sight, upon the full-blown bladders of repentance—by the help of which, I shall once more hope to swim into your favour. [_Bows_.] SHARP. So-h, oh, sir, I am easily pacified, the acknowledgment of a gentleman— SIR JO. Acknowledgment! Sir, I am all over acknowledgment, and will not stick to show it in the greatest extremity by night or by day, in sickness or in health, winter or summer; all seasons and occasions shall testify the reality and gratitude of your superabundant humble servant, Sir Joseph Wittoll, knight. Hem! hem! SHARP. Sir Joseph Wittoll? SIR JO. The same, sir, of Wittoll Hall in _Comitatu_ Bucks.