Corb. Do so, and there’s for thee.

Mos. Bountiful bones! What horrid strange offence
Did he commit ’gainst nature, in his youth,
Worthy this age? [Aside.]—You see, sir, [to Volt.] how I work
Unto your ends: take you no notice.

Volt. No,
I’ll leave you.

Mos. All is yours, the devil and all:
Good advocate!—Madam, I’ll bring you home.

Lady P. No, I’ll go see your patron.

Mos. That you shall not:
I’ll tell you why. My purpose is to urge
My patron to reform his Will; and for
The zeal you have shewn to-day, whereas before
You were but third or fourth, you shall be now
Put in the first: which would appear as begg’d,
If you were present. Therefore—

Lady P. You shall sway me.