Do go on, gentlemen, you're making the only breeze in Philadelphia

Col. Thomas McKean:
[to Read]
Sit down ya scurvy louse or I'll knock ya down! Hancock:
[to the Delaware delagates]
Sit down all three of you! [dog starts barking] Hancock:
McNair! Do something about that damn dog! Hopkins:
McNair, fetch me a rum! Hancock:
Get the dog first! Hopkins:
No! A rum! [both start shouting at once] McNair:
I only got two hands! Hancock:
[screaming]
Christ, it's hot! [silence] Hancock:
Do go on, gentlemen, you're making the only breeze in Philadelphia