Rosy. He says he’ll undertake to cure you for three thousand pounds. Mrs. Bri. Three thousand pounds! three thousand halters! — No, lovee, you shall … - Richard Brinsley Sheridan

While his off-heel, insidiously aside, Provokes the caper which he seems to chide.

As there are three of us come on purpose for the game, you won't be so cantankerous as to spoil the party by sitting out.

<small>THEY</small>, by a strange Frenzy driven, fight for Power, for Plunder, and extended Rule—<small>WE</small>, for our Country, our Altars, and our Homes.—<small>THEY</small> follow an <small>ADVENTURER</small>, whom they fear—and obey a Power which they hate—<small>WE</small> serve a Monarch whom we love—a God whom we adore...They call on us to barter all of Good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate Chance of Something better which they promise.—Be our plain Answer this: The Throne <small>WE</small> honour is the <small>PEOPLE'S CHOICE</small>—the Laws we reverence are our brave Fathers' Legacy—the Faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of Charity with all Mankind, and die with Hope of Bliss beyond the Grave. Tell your Invaders this; and tell them too, we seek no Change; and, least of all, such Change as they would bring us.