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.
