Col. Bully. No, damn him, I heard him wheeze.
Lord Rake. How the Witch his Wife howl'd?
Col. Bully. Aye, she'll alarm the Watch presently.
Lord Rake. Appear, Knight, then: Come, you have a good Cause to fight for, there's a Man murder'd.
Sir John. Is there? Then let his Ghost be satisfy'd: for I'll sacrifice a Constable to it presently, and burn his Body upon his wooden Chair.
Enter a Taylor, with a Bundle under his Arm.
Col. Bully. How now! what have we got here? A Thief?
Taylor. No an't please you, I'm no Thief.
Lord Rake. That we'll see presently: Here! let the General examine him.
Sir John. Ay, ay, let me examine him; and I'll lay a hundred Pound I find him guilty in spite of his Teeth——for he looks—like a——sneaking Rascal. Come, Sirrah, without Equivocation or mental Reservation, tell me of what Opinion you are, and what Calling; for by them——I shall guess at your Morals.