The captain tells his lieutenant to BID HIS BARK VEER ROUND to a point in the harbor.

Was ever such language?
My lady gives Sir Maurice a thousand pounds to WAFT him (her son) to some distant shore.

Nonsense, sheer nonsense; and what is worse, affected nonsense! Look at the comedy of the poor cousin.

"There is a great deal of game on the estate--partridges, hares, wild-geese, snipes, and plovers (SMACKING HIS LIPS)--besides a magnificent preserve of sparrows, which I can sell TO THE LITTLE BLACKGUARDS in the streets at a penny a hundred.

But I am very poor--a very poor old knight!" Is this wit or nature?
It is a kind of sham wit; it reads as if it were wit, but it is not.