Sir Fran. Why, what's the matter now?
Geo. I'se tell your worship; before we were gotten to the street-end, a great lugger-headed cart, with wheels as thick as a good brick wall, layd hawld of the coach, and has pood it aw to bits: an this be London, wo'd we were all weel i' th' country again.
Miss Betty. What have you to do, Sir, to wish us all in the country again, lubber? I hope we shan't go into the country again these seven years, Mama, let twenty coaches be pull'd to pieces.
Sir Fran. Hold your tongue, Betty. Was Roger in no fault of this?
Geo. No, Sir, nor I neither. Are you not asham'd, says Roger to the carter, to do such an unkind thing to strangers? No, says he, you bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very purpose, and so the folks said that stood by; but they said your worship need na be concerned, for you might have a law-suit with him when you pleas'd, that wou'd not cost you above a hundred pounds, and mayhap you might get the better of him.
Sir Fran. I'll try what I can do with him, I'gad, I'll make such——
Squire Humph. Feather, have him before the parliament.
Sir Fran. And so I will: I'll make him know who I am. Where does he live?
Geo. I believe in London, Sir.
Sir Fran. What's the villain's name?