Grim. How dare you talk to me in that style? I'll discharge you this very day!
Michael. I'm thinking of discharging you, if you don't take better care of that sweet temper of yours.
Grim. Leave the room, sir!
Michael. That I will, in search of better company, saving the lady's presence.
[Exit.
Grim. There, cousin! there is a specimen of my provocations! Can you wonder at my losing my temper?
Cousin. Cousin Grim, that would be the most fortunate thing that could befall you.
Grim. What do you mean?
Cousin. I mean, if you could only lose that temper of yours, it would be a blessed thing for you; though I should pity the poor fellow who found it. Grim. You are growing satirical in your old age, Cousin Mary.
Cousin. Cousin Grim, hear the plain truth; your ill temper makes you a nuisance to yourself and every body about you.