"Come, now," quod I, when he had done, "art thou going to be civil or troublesome?"
"Troublesome," replied he decidedly.
"Oh! well," quod I, "then we shall not come to a good Understanding, it seems, till I have given you a Beating; but for your Sake I'll put it off as long as I can."
"Your Time is mine, sir," quod he, "don't be in a Hurry, nor yet put it off too long. The smallest Favour shall be cheerfully accepted."
"Ah," quod I, "if that were a true Word of yours, how pleasantly we might get on together."
"Pleasantly! quite the other Way, I think," quod he. "Why, quarrelling's the very Spice of Life!"
"Keep Spice for rich Men's Tables, then," quod I, "I can eat my Breakfast very well without it."
"Ah!" saith he, "you've been brought up by your Mother!"
"And what if I have?" quod I quickly.
"Have you, though?" quod he, laughing. "Marry, you have now told Tales of yourself! Though I could have guessed it."