(Spruce enters, carrying a heavy trunk which he first puts down and then sits on, without responding to the Captain.)
Captain
Speak, reply!
Spruce For the moment, sir, I have nothing to say. Let me get my breath a moment, please—I'm totally winded.
Captain Do you always intend to put me in a fury and then play with me? I don't know what prevents me from giving you a beating. What, you rogue, just to go off to the custom house to get my trunk, takes you all day?
Spruce Oh, sir, customs inspectors are terrible men. All the savages in the world are less barbarous. They can only talk in monosyllables. "yes, no, what, sir? I have no time. But, sir— Would you kindly open up—" They need maybe a hundred words in their vocabulary. They give me a headache. Finally, when you need them for something, they're more proud and stuck up than an archbishop.
Captain What! Do you mean to pretend you stayed at the customs house until just now?
Spruce Oh, no. Seeing the customs inspector was about to take more than an hour—besides, he had a disagreeable phiz—I preferred to wait at a tavern.
Captain Your yen for brew always gets the best of you. Does wine command you always?
Spruce Everyone has his weakness, sir.— As you are well aware. It's the bad example more than the brew that puts me down the wrong road. I'd really like to live a clean life—
Captain
Why do you always keep bad company, then?