NEW. Bolt, they call him; I wish that Bolt was shot.
(They put NEWGATE in cupboard, C.)
CUT. I think I have seen your face before, sir?
BOLT. You have; but pray don’t mention—don’t bear malice.
MISS B. That face, too! oh, horror!
COT. This is my foreman, ladies, Mr. Bolt, whom, for his valuable services, I intend instantly to take into partnership.
MISS B. (To COTTON.) Sir! sir!
BOLT. Ahem!—There is one thing I have not confess’d; I mean, sir, my passion for this lady.
MIZ. Wonderful!