Enter Old Loveyet and Trueman.
Loveyet. I tell you it is the most infernal scheme that ever was devis'd.
Trueman. And I tell you, sir, that your argument is heterodox, sophistical, and most preposterously illogical.
Loveyet. I insist upon it, sir, you know nothing at all about the matter; and, give me leave to tell you, sir—
Trueman. What—give you leave to tell me I know nothing at all about the matter! I shall do no such thing, sir—I'm not to be govern'd by your ipse dixit.
Loveyet. I desire none of your musty Latin, sir, for I don't understand it, not I.
Trueman. Oh, the ignorance of the age! To oppose a plan of government like the new Constitution. Like it, did I say?—There never was one like it:—neither Minos, Solon, Lycurgus nor Romulus, ever fabricated so wise a system;—why it is a political phenomenon, a prodigy of legislative wisdom, the fame of which will soon extend almost ultramundane, and astonish the nations of the world with its transcendent excellence.—To what a sublime height will the superb edifice attain!
Loveyet. Your aspiring edifice shall never be erected in this State, sir.
Trueman. Mr. Loveyet, you will not listen to reason: only attend calmly one moment—[Reads.]—"We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide—"
Loveyet. I tell you I won't hear it.