NEW. And you left this same old Cotton?
PRIG. He made me leave, on account of a little exercise of my ingenuity. But you see I was down upon him.
NEW. What by taking the impression of the street-door key in wax?—But why the devil did you not go in before?
PRIG. Cos I had not the pluck; when I met with you, I was inspired.
MIZ. I say, a’n’t you fly?
BOLT. Oh, yes, I’m awake!
NEW. Don’t look so frightened, man; I have a bull-dog in each pocket. (Shewing pistols.)
MIZ. Sanguinary wretch! Don’t let him see you, Charley—he’ll blow out the few brains we have in no time.
NEW. (Opening door with key.) Here, the door is open; follow quick—good examples should always be followed.
(Exit through door.)