Sir John. Then, Sirrah, you love Lying by your Religion, and Theft by your Trade: And so, that your Punishment may be suitable to your Crimes—I’ll have you first gagg’d—and then hang’d.
Taylor. Pray, good worthy Gentlemen, don’t abuse me; indeed I’m an honest Man, and a good Workman, tho I say it, that shou’d not say it.
Sir John. No words, Sirrah, but attend your Fate.
Lord Rake. Let me see what’s in that Bundle.
Taylor. An’t please you, it is the Doctor of the Parish’s Gown.
Lord Rake. The Doctor’s Gown!—Hark you, Knight, you won’t stick at abusing the Clergy, will you?
Sir John. No. I’m drunk, and I’ll abuse anything—but my wife; and her I name—with Reverence.
Lord Rake. Then you shall wear this Gown, whilst you charge the Watch: That tho the Blows fall upon you, the Scandal may light upon the Church.
Sir John. A generous Design—by all the Gods—give it me.
(Takes the Gown, and puts it on.)