no better than a knave. And his two brothers, long weary of his ill usage, resolved at last to leave him; but first, they humbly desired a copy of their father's will, which had now lain by neglected time out of mind. Instead of granting this request, he called them damned sons of whores, rogues, traitors, and the rest of the vile names he could muster up. However, while he was abroad one day upon his projects, the two youngsters watched their opportunity, made a shift to come at the will[1], and took a copia vera, by which they presently saw how grossly they had been abused; their father having left them equal heirs, and strictly commanded, that whatever they got, should lie in common among them all. Pursuant to which, their next enterprize was, to break open the cellar-door, and get a little good drink[2], to spirit and comfort their hearts. In copying the will, they had met another precept against whoring, divorce, and separate maintenance; upon which their next work[3] was to discard their concubines, and send for their wives. While all this was in agitation, there enters a solicitor from Newgate, desiring lord Peter would please to procure a pardon for a thief, that was to be hanged to-morrow. But the two brothers told him, he was a coxcomb to seek pardons from a fellow, who deserved to be hanged much better than his client; and discovered all the method of that imposture, in the same form I delivered it a while ago, advising the solicitor to put his friend
