“Who’s here, King?”
“Yes—Have you any croaking spies here? Who was yon vagabond in the grey coat?”
“The—the—villain who stood in your worship’s way awhile ago?”
“Ay, the same: do you know him?”
“No, no, your Majesty.”
“So much the better. I do know him, and if you had, I’m not sure but I should have been under the ne—ne—necessity of smashing you—do you hear?”
“Yes—most humbly—Oh, I shall see you at Tyburn yet!”
“What’s that you mutter?”
“I—I was arguing that—all villains ought, to be at Tyburn, your worship.”
“Oh, ought they? Then why ain’t you there?”