—A brand-new British silver sixpence—bid
That 's ample for the Bank,—thinks majesty!
You are the Captain; call my sixpence cracked
Or copper; 'what I 've said is calumny;
The lady 's spotless!' Then,—I 'll prove my words,
Or make you prove them true as truth—yourself,
Here, on the instant! I 'll not mince my speech,
Things at this issue. When she enters, then,
Make love to her! No talk of marriage now—
The point-blank bare proposal! Pick no phrase—