Sir LUCIUS For instance, now—if that should be the case—would you choose to be pickled and sent home?—or would it be the same to you to lie here in the Abbey? I'm told there is very snug lying in the Abbey.
ACRES Pickled!—Snug lying in the Abbey!—Odds tremors! Sir Lucius, don't talk so!
Sir LUCIUS I suppose, Mr. Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this kind before?
ACRES
No, Sir Lucius, never before.
Sir LUCIUS Ah! that's a pity!—there's nothing like being used to a thing.—Pray now, how would you receive the gentleman's shot?
ACRES Odds files!—I've practised that—there, Sir Lucius—there. [Puts himself in an attitude.] A side-front, hey? Odd! I'll make myself small enough: I'll stand edgeways.
Sir LUCIUS
Now—you're quite out—for if you stand so when I take my aim——
[Levelling at him.]
ACRES
Zounds! Sir Lucius—are you sure it is not cocked?
Sir LUCIUS
Never fear.
ACRES
But—but—you don't know—it may go off of its own head!