Art. ——The same, Sir. Him with the golden Armour, whose whole Army you blew away with a single Puff, like Leaves before the Wind, and Feathers in a Storm.
Pyr. By Hercules, ’twas nothing.
Art. No, faith, Sir, nothing at all to what I can relate,—— [Aside] but the Devil a bit of Truth’s in’t. If any Man can shew me a greater Lyer, or a more bragging Coxcomb than this Blunderbuss, he shall take me, make me his Slave, and starve me with Whey and Butter-milk— Well, Sir?
Pyr. Where are you?
Art. Here, Sir:—— Wonderful! how you broke the great Indian Elephants Arm with your single Fist?
Pyr. What Arm?
Art. I wou’d ha’ said Thigh.
Pyr. Pshaw, I did that with ease.
Art. By Jove, Sir, had you us’d your full Strength, you’d ha’ flead, gutted, and bon’d the huge Beast at once.
Pyr. I wou’d not ha’ ye relate all my Acts at this time.