Tory. What would you do then, sir, if I was to pick your pocket?
Whig. Break your head, sir—
Tory. Sure you don't mean as you say, sir—
Whig. I surely do—try me, sir—
Tory. Excuse me, sir, I am not of your mind, I would avoid every thing that has the appearance of rashness.—Great-Britain's power, sir—
Whig. Great-Britain's power, sir, is too much magnified, 't will soon grow weak, by endeavouring to make slaves of American freemen; we are not Africans yet, neither bond-slaves.—You would avoid and discourage every thing that has the appearance of patriotism, you mean.—
Tory. Who? me, sir?
Whig. Yes, you, sir;—you go slyly pimping, spying and sneaking about, cajoling the ignorant, and insinuating bugbear notions of Great-Britain's mighty power into weak people's ears, that we may tamely give all up, and you be rewarded, perhaps, with the office of judge of the admiralty, or continental hangman, for ought I know.
Tory. Who? me, sir?
Whig. Aye, you, sir;—and let me tell you, sir, you've been long suspected—