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: I want those papers, Jane. They belong to the governor. Jane Harding
: Ah, the governor. I was forgetting that you hobnobbed with Appleyard. Have you told him how the hearty wench loved you? How she's so besotted that she'll never suspect that you're spying on her father? It must have amused him, Noll. How he must have laughed. You're his puppet aren't you? His minion. Whistle for the papers, you turncoat!
: Are you so naive to think ridding Maryland of it's governor will bring Ameria one day nearer independence? This is 1740, Jane. The Brittish will rule America for another two hundred years.
: How could you lose her? Smith
: I didn't know she'd stick the coach, which was as dark as a cow's insides.
: [referring to Jane
] Curse the wench!
: [referring to Saul, Bridger's slave
] So a man can be bought, Bridger, can he, like a piece of furniture? Noll Bridger
: Or a horse. Or a greyhound anything else I pay money for. What do you say?
: [two ladies are having a pillow fight riding piggyback on two men
] I'll wage twenty pounds on the strumpet in green! Noll Bridger
: I'll accept the wager my lord, her horse is tiring!
: [Bridger has seen through Turpin's foppish disguise
] You sir, are a cock's comb. Dick Turpin
: Well then, my dear, you must be a Colonial cock's comb
[the disguised Turpin and Fytton laugh but Bridger draws his sword
: Oh, put it away, Bridger! Dick Turpin
: Yes, do put it away.
: Two triumphs, eh, Mr. Bridger? One Tom Cook of Bristol, and one Dick Turpin of nowhere in particular. By the by, what was the rumpus about?
[Bridger remains silent
: The fight sir, who provoked it? Noll Bridger
: He insulted me. Fytton
: Of course. It wouldn't be difficult.