Chancellor. What mean you, Sir?
Philip [seeing the Old Man]. My uncle? kind Heaven, I thank thee!
Old Man. Who is it?
Mr. D. Philip! your nephew Philip.
Philip [turning to the Chancellor]. Look as him—at this face—those grey hairs—those hands which you put in fetters: fifteen years of his life, of liberty, thou hast stolen from him.
Chancellor [laughs].
Philip. Feign tranquillity—cover thy horror with hypocrisy: this scene thou canst not bear. Look—look here, at the marks of the chains upon these hands—here I place him before thee: so will he stand before thee in Heaven, with all those whom thou hast wronged and undone; then before the Almighty Judge will he say, "Thou hast given thy soul to eternal perdition, for the love of gain."
Chancellor [in a fury]. Off with this fellow!
Clerk going to take hold of him.
Philip. Stop! [gives the Clerk a paper, which he overlooks, and hands to the Chancellor]. Read that—[To the company] From my prison I wrote to our excellent Minister—being released by his warrant, and hearing from Rose what passed here, I hastened to my noble protector, who gave me an order by which all farther proceedings here are stopped, and that wretch is suspended from all his employments, till the justice of his country shall have decided on the punishment so long due to his unparalleled crimes. Oh, my good uncle, my dear Drave, we are now safe.