WHIG. Yes, you, sir;--you go slyly pimping, spying and sneaking about, cajoling the ignorant, and insinuating bugbear notions of Great-Britain's mighty power into weak people's ears, that we may tamely give all up, and you be rewarded, perhaps, with the office of judge of the admiralty, or continental hangman, for ought I know. TORY. Who? me, sir? WHIG. Aye, you, sir;--and let me tell you, sir, you've been long suspected-- TORY. Of what, sir? WHIG. For a rank Tory, sir. TORY. What mean you, sir? WHIG. I repeat it again--suspected to be an enemy to your country. TORY. By whom, sir? Can you show me an instance? WHIG. From your present discourse I suspect you--and from your connections and artful behaviour all suspect you. TORY. Can you give me a proof? WHIG. Not a point blank proof, as to my own knowledge; you're so much of a Jesuit, you have put it out of my power;--but strong circumstances by information, such as amount to a proof in the present case, sir, I can furnish you with. TORY. Sir, you may be mistaken. WHIG. 'Tis not possible, my informant knows you too well. TORY. Who is your informant, sir? WHIG. A gentleman, sir; and if you'll give yourself the trouble to walk with me, I'll soon produce him. TORY. Another time; I cannot stay now;--'tis dinner time. WHIG. That's the time to find him. TORY. I cannot stay now. WHIG. We'll call at your house then. TORY. I dine abroad, sir. WHIG. Be gone, you scoundrel! I'll watch your waters; 'tis time to clear the land of such infernal vermin. [_Exeunt both different ways._ SCENE IV. _In Boston, while the Regulars were flying from Lexington._ _LORD BOSTON surrounded by his guards and a few officers._ LORD BOSTON. If Colonel Smith succeeds in his embassy, and I think there's no doubt of it, I shall have the pleasure this ev'ning, I expect, of having my friends Hancock and Adams's good company; I'll make each of them a present of a pair of handsome iron ruffles, and Major Provost shall provide a suitable entertainment for them in his apartment. OFFICER. Sure they'll not be so unpolite as to refuse your Excellency's kind invitation. LORD BOSTON. Shou'd they, Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn have my orders to make use of all their rhetoric and the persuasive eloquence of British thunder. _Enter a MESSENGER in haste._ MESSENGER. I bring your Excellency unwelcome tidings-- LORD BOSTON. For heaven's sake! from what quarter? MESSENGER. From Lexington plains. LORD BOSTON. 'Tis impossible! MESSENGER. Too true, sir. LORD BOSTON. Say--what is it? Speak what you know. MESSENGER. Colonel Smith is defeated, and fast retreating. LORD BOSTON. Good God!--What does he say? Mercy on me! MESSENGER. They're flying before the enemy. LORD BOSTON. Britons turn their backs before the Rebels!--The Rebels put Britons to flight?--Said you not so?