Sir Luke. And now if you don't take care, by looking so much at his Lordship, you may catch some of his defects.
Lady. I know of very few he has.
Sir Luke. I know of many—besides those he assumes.—
Lady. Assumes!!——
Sir Luke. Yes; do you suppose he is as forgetful as he pretends to be? no, no—but because he is a favourite with the Sultan, and all our great men at court, he thinks it genteel or convenient to have no memory—and yet I'll answer for it, he has one of the best in the universe.
Lady. I don't believe your charge.
Sir Luke. Why, though he forgets his appointments with his tradesmen, did you ever hear of his forgetting to go to court when a place was to be disposed of? Did he ever make a blunder, and send a bribe to a man out of power? Did he ever forget to kneel before the Prince of this Island—or to look in his highness's presence like the statue of Patient-resignation in humble expectation?—
Lady. Dear, Sir Luke——
Sir Luke. Sent from his own country in his very infancy, and brought up in the different courts of petty, arbitrary Princes here in Asia; he is the slave of every great man, and the tyrant of every poor one.——
Lady. "Petty Princes!"—'tis well his highness our Sultan does not hear you.