Lop. Sir!
Car. Speak, fury, what dost thou mean by the kiss of kisses?
Lop. The kiss of peace, Sir, the kiss of union; the kiss of consummation.
Car. Thou ly'st, villain.
Lop. I don't know but I may, Sir,——What the Devil's the matter now?
[Aside.
Car. There's not a word of truth in all thy cursed tongue has utter'd.
Lop. No, Sir, I——I——believe there is not.
Car. Why then didst thou say it, wretch?
Lop. O——only in jest. Sir.