O villain! Aye, though I ha’ bred him! What
Though ’tis my own son—villain! God’s teeth!
JOHANNA
Sir!
ALISOUN
Your pardon, dainty dame. Before I speak
I do not rinse my mouth in oleander.
I am a blunt knight. Nay, I cannot sigh
A simoon hot with sonnets like my son.
I am a blunt knight who, on Satan’s heel,