Samuel Foote - The Lame Lover

Nay, if the sheriff return "non inventus" —

A pox o' your law, you make me lose sight of my story. One morning, a Welch coach-maker came with his bill to my Lord, whose name was unluckily Loyd. My Lord had the man up. You are call'd, I think, Mr. Loyd? – At your Lordship's service, my Lord. – What, Loyd with an L? – It was with an L indeed, my Lord. – Because in your part of the world I have heard that Loyd and Floyd were synonymous, the very same names. – Very often indeed, my lord. – But you always spell your's with an L? – Always. – That, Mr. Loyd, is a little unlucky; for you must know I am now paying my debts alphabetically, and in four or five years you might have come in with an F; but I am afraid I can give you no hopes for your L. – Ha, ha, ha!

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Alluding to Mr. Garrick's Prologue to the Jubilee.