Haz. Sir, you ought not to sit Judge and Accuser too.
Whiff. The Gentleman’s i’th’ right, Brother, you cannot do’t according to Law.
Tim. Gads zoors, what new tricks, new querks?
Haz. Gentlemen, take notice, he swears in Court.
Tim. Gads zoors, what’s that to you, Sir?
Haz. This is the second time of his swearing.
Whim. What, do you think we are deaf, Sir? Come, come, proceed.
Tim. I desire he may be bound to his Good Behaviour, fin’d, and deliver up his Sword, what say you, Brother? Jogs Dull. who nods.
Whim. He’s asleep, drink to him and waken him,— you have miss’d the Cause by sleeping, Brother. Drinks.
Dull. Justice may nod, but never sleeps, Brother— you were at—Deliver his Sword—a good Motion, let it be done. Drinks.