Has. A place?
Twi. Yes; and you see I have got one—and a poor place it is!—in short, Sir, my crime is said to be an offence against the state; and they tell me no friend on earth but you can get that remitted.
Has. Upon my word, the pardons I have obtained are for so few persons—and those already promised——
Twi. O, I know I am no favourite of yours—you think me an impertinent, silly, troublesome fellow, and that my conduct in life will be neither of use to my country nor of benefit to society.
Has. You mistake me, Sir—I think such glaring imperfections as yours will not be of so much disadvantage to society as those of a less-faulty man.—In beholding your conduct, thousands shall turn from the paths of folly, to which fashion, custom, nature, (or call it what you will) impels them;—therefore, Mr. Twineall, if not pity for your faults, yet a concern for the good effect they may have upon the world (shou'd you be admitted there again) will urge me to solicit your return to it.
Twi. Sir, you have such powers of oratory—what a prodigious capital quality!—and I doubt not but you are admired by the world equally for that——
Enter Messenger to Haswell.
Mess. Sir, the Sultan is arrived in the council chamber, and has sent me. [Whispers.
Has. I come.—Mr. Twineall, farewell for the present.
[Exit with Messenger.