_Attorn. Gen._ An't please your Lordship, and you Gentlemen of the Jury, here is a Fellow before you that is a sad Dog, a sad sad Dog; and I humbly hope your Lordship will order him to be hang'd out of the Way immediately.--He has committed Pyracy upon the High Seas, and we shall prove, an't please your Lordship, that this Fellow, this sad Dog before you, has escap'd a thousand Storms, nay, has got safe ashore when the Ship has been cast away, which was a certain Sign he was not born to be drown'd; yet not having the Fear of hanging before his Eyes, he went on robbing and ravishing Man, Woman and Child, plundering Ships Cargoes fore and aft, burning and sinking Ship, Bark and Boat, as if the Devil had been in him. But this is not all, my Lord, he has committed worse Villanies than all these, for we shall prove, that he has been guilty of drinking Small-Beer; and your Lordship knows, there never was a sober Fellow but what was a Rogue.--My Lord, I should have spoke much finer than I do now, but that, as your Lordship knows our Rum is all out, and how should a Man speak good Law that has not drank a Dram.--However, I hope, your Lordship will order the Fellow to be hang'd. _Judge._--Hearkee me, Sirrah,--you lousy, pittiful, ill-look'd Dog; what have you to say why you should not be tuck'd up immediately, and set a Sun-drying like a Scare-crow?--Are you guilty, or not guilty? _Pris._ Not guilty, an't please your Worship. _Judge._ Not guilty! say so again, Sirrah, and I'll have you hang'd without any Tryal. _Pris._ An't please your Worship's Honour, my Lord, I am as honest a poor Fellow as ever went between Stem and Stern of a Ship, and can hand, reef, steer, and clap two Ends of a Rope together, as well as e'er a He that ever cross'd salt Water; but I was taken by one _George Bradley_ [the Name of him that sat as Judge,] a notorious Pyrate, a sad Rogue as ever was unhang'd, and he forc'd me, an't please your Honour. _Judge._ Answer me, Sirrah,--How will you be try'd? _Pris._ By G-- and my Country. _Judge._ The Devil you will.--Why then, Gentlemen of the Jury, I think we have nothing to do but to proceed to Judgment. _Attor. Gen._ Right, my Lord; for if the Fellow should be suffer'd to speak, he may clear himself, and that's an Affront to the Court. _Pris._ Pray, my Lord, I hope your Lordship will consider-- _Judge._ Consider!--How dare you talk of considering? --Sirrah, Sirrah, I never consider'd in all my Life. --I'll make it Treason to consider. _Pris._ But, I hope, your Lordship will hear some Reason. _Judge._ D'ye hear how the Scoundrel prates?--What have we to do with Reason?--I'd have you to know, Raskal, we don't sit here to hear Reason;--we go according to Law.--Is our Dinner ready? _Attor. Gen._ Yes, my Lord.