"Jeremiah also suggests lamentations, and has the further merit of being my own name."
"Tristram—"
"Jeremiah—"
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried Dr. Beckerleg, "would it not be as well to see the infant?"
"I can imagine," Captain Barker answered, "nothing in the infant that is likely to shake my resolution. My scheme of discipline will be based—"
"Decidedly, Jack, I shall have to run you through," said his friend gloomily. Indeed, the Doctor stood in instant fear of this catastrophe; for Captain Runacles' temper was a byword, and not even his customary dark flush looked so dangerous as the lustreless, sullen eyes now sunk in a face that was drawn and pinched and absolutely wax-like in colour. To the Doctor's astonishment, however, it was the little hunchback who now jumped up and whipped out his sword.
"Run me through!" he almost screamed, dancing before the other and threatening him with absurd flourishes—"Run me through?"
"Listen, gentlemen; listen, before blood is spilt! To me it appears evident that you are both drunk."
"To me that seems an advantage, since it equalises matters."
"But whichever of you survives, he will be unable to forgive himself; having sinned not only against God, but also against logic."