Twi. It is a great science, notwithstanding—and studied, at present, by all the connoisseurs.—Zounds! I have staid a long time—I can't attend to any more characters at present—Sir Luke and his Lady will think me inattentive, if I don't join them—Shall I see you again?—if not—I wish you a pleasant voyage—I'll make the most of what you have told me—you'll hear I'm a great man—God bless you!—good bye!—you'll hear I'm a great man. [Exit.
Mean. And, if I am not mistaken, I shall hear you are turned out of the house before to-morrow morning. O, Twineall! exactly the reverse of every character have you now before you—the greatest misfortune in the life of Sir Luke has been, flying from his army in the midst of an engagement, and a most humiliating degradation in consequence, which makes him so feelingly alive on the subject of a battle, that nothing but his want of courage can secure my friend Twineall's life for venturing to name the subject—then Lord Flint, firmly attached to the interest of the Sultan, will be all on fire, when he hears of open disaffection—but most of all her Ladyship! whose father was a grocer, and uncle, a noted advertising "Periwig-maker on a new construction." She will run mad to hear of births, titles, and long pedigrees.—Poor Twineall! little dost thou think what is prepared for thee.—There is Mr. Haswell too—but to him have I sent you to be reclaimed—to him,—who, free from faults, or even foibles, of his own, has yet more potently the blessing given, of tenderness for ours. [Exit.
SCENE II. The inside of a Prison.
Several Prisoners dispersed in different situations.
Enter Keeper and Haswell with lights.
Keep. This way, Sir—the prisons this way are more extensive still—you seem to feel for these unthinking men—but they are a set of unruly people, whom no severity can make such as they ought to be.
Has. And wou'd not gentleness, or mercy, do you think, reclaim them?
Keep. That I can't say—we never try those means in this part of the world—that man yonder, suspected of disaffection, is sentenced to be here for life, unless his friends can lay down a large sum by way of penalty, which he finds they cannot do, and he is turned melancholy.
Has. [After a pause.] Who is that? [To another.
Keep. He has been try'd for heading an insurrection, and acquitted.
Has. What keeps him here?
Keep. Fees due to the Court—a debt contracted while he proved his innocence.