'You are disrespectable, sir,' said the Lord Mayor--'leastways,
disrespectful I mean.'
'Disrespectful, my lord!' returned the old gentleman. 'I was respectful
five times yesterday. I can't be respectful for ever. Men can't stand
on being respectful when their houses are going to be burnt over their
heads, with them in 'em. What am I to do, my lord? AM I to have any
protection!'
'I told you yesterday, sir,' said the Lord Mayor, 'that you might have
an alderman in your house, if you could get one to come.'
'What the devil's the good of an alderman?' returned the choleric old
gentleman.
'--To awe the crowd, sir,' said the Lord Mayor.
'Oh Lord ha' mercy!' whimpered the old gentleman, as he wiped his
forehead in a state of ludicrous distress, 'to think of sending an
alderman to awe a crowd! Why, my lord, if they were even so many babies,
fed on mother's milk, what do you think they'd care for an alderman!
Will YOU come?'
'I!' said the Lord Mayor, most emphatically: 'Certainly not.'
'Then what,' returned the old gentleman, 'what am I to do? Am I a
citizen of England? Am I to have the benefit of the laws? Am I to have
any return for the King's taxes?'
'I don't know, I am sure,' said the Lord Mayor; 'what a pity it is
you're a Catholic! Why couldn't you be a Protestant, and then you
wouldn't have got yourself into such a mess? I'm sure I don't know
what's to be done.
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