Sir Fran. Why, they were all got there, into a sort of a puzzling debate, about the good of the nation——and I were always for that, you know——but in short, the arguments were so long winded o' both sides, that, waunds! I did no well understand 'em, hawsomever, I was convinc'd, and so resolved to vote right, according to my conscience——so when they came to put the question, as they call it,——I don't know haw 'twas——but I doubt I cry'd ay! when I should ha' cry'd no!
Man. How came that about?
Sir Fran. Why, by a mistake, as I tell you——for there was a good-humour'd sort of a gentleman, one Mr. Totherside I think they call him, that sat next me, as soon as I had cry'd ay! gives me a hearty shake by the hand! Sir says he, you are a man of honour, and a true Englishman! and I should be proud to be better acquainted with you——and so with that, he takes me by the sleeve, along with the crowd into the lobby, so, I knew nowght——but ods-flesh! I was got o' the wrung side the post—for I were told, afterwards, I should have staid where I was.
Man. And so, if you had not quite made your fortune before, you have clench'd it now!—--Ah! thou head of the Wrongheads.
Sir Fran. Odso! here's my lady come home at last——I hope, cousin, you will be so kind, as to take a family supper with us?
Man. Another time, Sir Francis; but to-night I am engaged!
Enter Lady Wronghead, Miss Jenny, and Count Basset.
Lady Wrong. Cousin! your servant; I hope you will pardon my rudeness: but we have really been in such a continual hurry here, that we have not had a leisure moment to return your last visit.
Man. O Madam! I am a man of no ceremony; you see that has not hindered my coming again.