Sir Pat. Upon my Honour that was unpolite—and you might as well say I want Judgment.
Trif. Ay, by Gad, or I.
Cank. You are those kind of Judges who are brought into the Channel of Criticism by the Springtide of Fashion, part of the Rubbish which helps to swell it above the Mark of Truth, and with its Ebb, return as precipitately as you came in, and are never heard of more.
Trif. Dullness seize me! If I understand what you mean by your Springtide, your Fashion, and your Rubbish—I insist upon the Play, [it] is a good Play—quite tip top, the best Play in life, split me!
Sir Pat. Faith, so it is, Mr. Trifle, a very good Play, for the Author told me so himself—and you know it must be good when I had it from his own Mouth.
Lady. Did you ever see the Author, Sir Patrick?
Sir Pat. No, Madam, but I had it at second hand, from a third Parson, and that's the same thing, you know.
Omnes. Ha! ha! ha!
(Enter a FOOTMAN)
Foot. Mr. Advocate the Lawyer is come; he bid me inform your Ladyship that the Writings are ready.