Wild. How, Sirrah! [Fiercely, he starts.
Sir Tim. Nay, Gentlemen, not but I love and honour his Holiness with all my Soul; and if his Grace did but know what I’ve done for him, d’ye see—
Fop. You done for the Pope, Sirrah! Why, what have you done for the Pope?
Sir Tim. Why, Sir, an’t like ye, I have done you very great Service, very great Service; for I have been, d’ye see, in a small Tryal I had, the cause and occasion of invalidating the Evidence to that degree, that I suppose no Jury in Christendom will ever have the Impudence to believe ’.m hereafter, shou’d they swear against his Holiness and all the Conclave of Cardinals.
Wild. And yet you plot on still, cabal, treat, and keep open Debauch, for all the Renegado-Tories and old Commonwealthsmen to carry on the good Cause.
Sir Tim. Alas, what signifies that! You know, Gentlemen, that I have such a strange and natural Agility in turning—I shall whip about yet, and leave ‘em all in the Lurch.
Wild. ‘Tis very likely; but at this time we shall not take your Word for that.
Sir Tim. Bloody-minded Men, are you resolv’d to assassinate me then?
Wild. You trifle, Sir, and know our Business better, than to think we come to take your Life, which wou’d not advantage a Dog, much less any Party or Person—Come, come, your Keys, your Keys.
Fop. Ay, ay, discover, discover your Money, Sir, your ready—