RAVENSBANE [With a superb air.] The second, I believe.
DICKON Quite so, my lord.
RAVENSBANE Sir! The local person whom you represent has done himself the honour of submitting to me a challenge to mortal combat. Sir! Since the remotest times of my feudal ancestors, in such affairs of honour, choice of weapons has ever been the prerogative of the challenged. Sir! This right of etiquette must be observed. Nevertheless, believe me, I have no selfish desire that my superior attainments in this art should assume advantage over my challenger’s ignorance. I have, therefore, chosen those combative utensils most appropriate both to his own humble origin and to local tradition. Permit me, sir, to reveal my choice. [Pointing grandly to the table.] There are my weapons
DICKON [Clapping his hands.] My darling homunculus! Thou shouldst have acted in Beaumont and Fletcher!
RAVENSBANE There are my weapons!
DICKON I could watch thy histrionics till midnight. But thou art tired, poor Jacky; two hours’ rehearsal is fatiguing to your lordship.
RAVENSBANE Mistress Rachel—I may see her now?
DICKON Romeo! Romeo! Was ever such an amorous puppet show!
RAVENSBANE Mistress Rachel!
DICKON Wait; let me think! Thou art wound up now, my pretty apparatus, for at least six and thirty hours. The wooden angel Gabriel that trumpets the hours on the big clock in Venice is not a more punctual manikin than thou with my speeches. Thou shouldst run, therefore,—