Lady. [To Twineall.] Sir, let me tell you—
Twi. O! O! my dear Madam, 'tis all in vain—there is no such thing—it can't be—there is no pleading against conviction—a person of low birth must, in every particular, be a terrible creature.
Sir Luke. [Going to her.] A terrible creature! a terrible creature!
Lady. Here comes my Lord Flint—I'll appeal to him.
Enter Lord Flint.
Sir Luke. [Going to him.] My Lord, I was saying, as proof that our great Sultan, who now fills this throne, is no impostor, (as the rebel party wou'd insinuate) no low-born man, but of the Royal Stock; his conduct palpably evinces—for, had he not been nobly born, we shou'd have beheld the Plebeian bursting forth upon all occasions [Looking at Lady Tremor] and then, Heaven help all those who had had any dealings with him!
Lady. Provoking!
[Goes up the stage.
Lord. Sir Luke, is there a doubt of the Emperor's birth and title? he is the real Sultan, depend upon it—it surprises me to hear you talk with the smallest uncertainty.
Twi. O, Sir Luke, I wonder at it too, [Aside to Lord Flint.] and yet, damn me, my Lord, if I have not my doubts.