Mr. FOX.—Hear! hear! hear!
CURATE.—“If thou shalt see the ass of him that hateth thee lying under his burthen, thou shalt surely help him.”
Sir CECIL WRAY.—I trust—I dare say—at least I hope I may venture
to think—that my Right Hon. friend—I should say enemy—fully
comprehends what I have to offer in my own defence.
CURATE.—“As for me I am a worm, and no man; a very scorn of men,
and the outcast of the people!—fearfulness and trembling are come
upon me, and an horrible dread overwhelmed me!!!”
HIGH BAILIFF.—As that fellow there says he did not vote for Fox,
who did he poll for?
CURATE.—“BARRABAS!—now Barrabas was a robber.”
VIVE LE SCRUTINY.
CROSS GOSPEL THE SECOND.
HIGH BAILIFF.—This here case is, as I may say, rather more muddier than I could wish.
DEPUTY GROJAN.—Ce n’est pas clair—I tink, Sir, with you.