Lam. We give my Lord Wariston leave to jest.
Des. But what’s this to the Government all this while? A dad I shall sit so late, I shall have no time to visit my Horses, therefore proceed to the Point.
Hew. Ay, to the Point, my Lords; the Gentleman that spoke last spoke well.
Cob. Well said, Brother, I see you will in time speak properly.
Duc. But to the Government, my Lords! [Beats the Table.
Lam. Put ’em off of this Discourse, my Lord. [Aside to War.
Des. My Lord Wariston, move it, you are Speaker.
War. The Diel a me, Sirs, and noo ya talk of a Speaker, I’s tell ye a blithe Tale.
Fleet. Ingeniously, my Lord, you are to blame to swear so.
Lam. Your Story, my Lord.