Touch. When a man's speeches cannot be understood, nor a man's good platform wit seconded by the froward child popular understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a small minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would the gods had made thee political.
Aud. I do not know what political is. Is it honest in deed and word? Is it a true thing?
Touch. (with sardonic frankness). No, truly; for the truest politics show the most feigning; and Tories are given to politics; and what they swear, in politics, may be said, as Tories, they do feign.
Aud. Do you wish, then, that the gods had made me political?
Touch. I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art true Tory, parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert political, I might have some hope thou didst feign—to them!
Aud. Would you not have me Tory?
Touch. No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; for Toryism coupled to poverty is to have folly a sauce to misery.
Jaq. (aside). A shrewd fool!
Aud. Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the gods to make me Liberal.
Touch. Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a willingly "unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with pearls.