I was just telling Charlot, that you was not a whit the worse for the loss.
Sir LUKE.
The worse! much the better, my dear. Consider, I can have neither strain, splint, spavin, or gout; have no fear of corns, kibes, or that another man should kick my shins, or tread on my toes.
SERJEANT.
Right.
Sir LUKE.
What d'ye think I would change with Bill Spindle for one of his drumsticks, or chop with Lord Lumber for both of his logs?
SERJEANT.
No!
Sir LUKE.