LADY TEAZLE. Aye so I was—and would always take your Part, when my acquaintance used to abuse you and turn you into ridicule—
SIR PETER. Indeed!
LADY TEAZLE. Aye—and when my cousin Sophy has called you a stiff peevish old batchelor and laugh'd at me for thinking of marrying one who might be my Father—I have always defended you—and said I didn't think you so ugly by any means, and that you'd make a very good sort of a husband—
SIR PETER. And you prophesied right—and we shall certainly now be the happiest couple——
LADY TEAZLE. And never differ again.
SIR PETER. No never—tho' at the same time indeed—my dear Lady Teazle—you must watch your Temper very narrowly—for in all our little Quarrels—my dear—if you recollect my Love you always began first—
LADY TEAZLE. I beg your Pardon—my dear Sir Peter—indeed—you always gave the provocation.
SIR PETER. Now—see, my Love take care—contradicting isn't the way to keep Friends.
LADY TEAZLE. Then don't you begin it my Love!
SIR PETER. There now—you are going on—you don't perceive[,] my Life, that you are just doing the very thing my Love which you know always makes me angry.