Clerk. That your Honours wou’d be pleas’d, in consideration of his Service, to grant to your Petitioner, a considerable Sum of Money for his present Supply.
Fleet. Verily, order him two thousand Pound—
War. Two thousand poond? Bread a gued, and I’s gif my Voice for Fleetwood. [Aside.
Lam. Two thousand; nay, my Lords, let it be three.
War. Wons, I lee’d, I lee’d; I’s keep my Voice for Lambert—Guds Benizon light on yar Sol, my gued Lord Lambert.
Hews. Three thousand Pound! why such a Sum wou’d buy half Scotland.
War. Wons, my Lord, ya look but blindly on’t then: time was, a Mite on’t had bought aud [shoos in yar] Stall, Brother, tho noo ya so abound in Irish and Bishops Lands.
Duc. You have nick’d him there, my Lord.
All. He, he, he.
War. Scribe—gang a tiny bit farther.