Sandy Beard.—Why to be sure; what can I mean else?
Straw Hat.—But he has given me no provocation.
Sandy Beard.—Now, I think he has given you the greatest provocation in the world. Can a man commit a more heinous offence against another than to frighten him? Ah! by my soul, it is a most unpardonable breach of something.
Straw Hat.—Breach of something! Ay, ay; but is't a breach of the peace? I have no acquaintance with this man. I never saw him before in my life.
Sandy Beard.—That's no argument at all; he has the less right to take such a liberty.
Straw Hat.—Gad, that's true. I grow full of anger, Sir Sandy! fire ahead! Odds, writs and warrants! I find a man may have a good deal of valor in him, and not know it! But couldn't I contrive to have a little right on my side?
Sandy Beard.—What the devil signifies right when your courage is concerned. Do you think Verges, or my little Dogberry ever inquired where the right lay? No, by my soul; they drew their writs, and left the lazy justice of the peace to settle the right of it.
Straw Hat.—Your words are a grenadier's march to my heart! I believe courage must be catching! I certainly do feel a kind of valor rising as it were,—a kind of courage, as I may say. Odds, writs and warrants! I'll complain directly.
(With apologies to Sheridan.)
And the pair went off to make their complaint.