Volume Ii Part 74 (2/2)

[_Aloud and threatning_.

Sir _Tim_. Hold, I beseech you, Gentlemen, not so loud; for there is a Lord, a most considerable Person, and a Stranger, honours my House to night; I wou'd not for the world his Lords.h.i.+p shou'd be disturb'd.

_Wild_. Take no care for him, he's fast bound and all his Retinue.

Sir _Tim_. How, bound! my Lord bound, and all his People! Undone, undone, disgrac'd! What will the Polanders say, that I shou'd expose their Emba.s.sador to this Disrespect and Affront?

_Wild_. Bind him, and take away his Keys.

[_They bind him hand and foot, and take his Keys out of his Bosom. Ex. all_.

Sir _Tim_. Ay, ay, what you please, Gentlemen, since my Lord's bound--Oh, what Recompence can I make for so unhospitable Usage? I am a most unfortunate Magistrate: hah, who's there, _Jervice_? Alas, art thou here too? What, canst not speak? but 'tis no matter and I were dumb too; for what Speech or Harangue will serve to beg my Pardon of my Lord?--And then my Heiress, _Jervice_, ay, my rich Heiress, why, she'll be ravisht: Oh Heavens, ravisht! The young Rogues will have no Mercy, _Jervice_; nay, perhaps as thou say'st, they'll carry her away.--Oh, that thought! Gad, I rather the City-Charter were lost.

[_Enter some with Bags of Money_.

--Why, Gentlemen, rob like Christians, Gentlemen.

_Fop_. What, do you mutter, Dog?

Sir _Tim_. Not in the least, Sir, not in the least; only a Conscience, Sir, in all things does well--Barbarous Rogues.

[_They go out all again_.]

Here's your arbitrary Power, _Jervice_; here's the Rule of the Sword now for you: These are your Tory Rogues, your tantivy Roysters; but we shall cry quits with you, Rascals, ere long; and if we do come to our old Trade of Plunder and Sequestration, we shall so handle ye--we'll spare neither Prince, Peer, nor Prelate. Oh, I long to have a slice at your fat Church-men, your c.r.a.pe-Gownorums.

_Enter_ Wild. Dresswell, Laboir, _and the rest, with more Bags_.

_Wild_. A Prize, a Prize, my Lads, in ready Guineas; Contribution, my beloved.

_Dres_. Nay, then 'tis lawful Prize, in spite of Ignoramus and all his Tribe--What hast thou here?

[_To_ Fop. _who enters with a Bag full of Papers_.

_Fop_. A whole Bag of Knavery, d.a.m.n'd Sedition, Libels, Treason, Successions, Rights and Privileges, with a new-fas.h.i.+on'd Oath of Abjuration, call'd the a.s.sociation.--Ah, Rogue, what will you say when these shall be made publick?

Sir _Tim_. Say, Sir? why, I'll deny it, Sir; for what Jury will believe so wise a Magistrate as I cou'd communicate such Secrets to such as you?

I'll say you forg'd 'em, and put 'em in--or print every one of 'em, and own 'em, as long as they were writ and publisht in London, Sir. Come, come, the World is not so bad yet, but a Man may speak Treason within the Walls of London, thanks be to G.o.d, and honest conscientious Jury-Men. And as for the Money, Gentlemen, take notice you rob the Party.

_Wild_. Come, come, carry off the Booty, and prithee remove that Rubbish of the Nation out of the way--Your servant, Sir.--So, away with it to _Dresswell's_ Lodgings, his Coach is at the Door ready to receive it.

[_They carry off Sir_ Timothy, _and others take up the Bags, and go out with 'em_.

_Dres_. Well, you are sure you have all you came for?

_Wild_. All's safe, my Lads, the Writings all--

_Fop_. Come, let's away then.

_Wild_. Away? what meanest thou? is there not a Lord to be found bound in his Bed, and all his People? Come, come, dispatch, and each Man bind his Fellow.

_Fop_. We had better follow the Baggage, Captain.

_Wild_. No, we have not done so ill, but we dare shew our Faces. Come, come, to binding.

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