Sir Har. Don't disgrace me, sirrah, you grim, graceless rogue—[Apart.]—Brother, he has been bred up to respect and silence before his parents. Yet did you but hear what a noise he makes sometimes in the kitchen, or the kennel—he's the loudest of 'em all.
Tip. Well, Sir Harry, since you assure me he can speak, I'll take your word for it.
Hump. I can speak when I see occasion, and I can hold my tongue when I see occasion.
Sir Har. Well said, Numps—Sirrah, I see you can do well, if you will. [Apart.
Tip. Pray walk up to me, cousin Humphry.
Sir Har. Ay, walk to and fro between us with your hat under your arm.—Clear up your countenance. [Apart.
Tip. I see, Sir Harry, you han't set him a-capering under a French dancing-master. He does not mince it. He has not learned to walk by a courant or a boree.[84] His paces are natural, Sir Harry.
Hump. I don't know, but 'tis so we walk in the West of England.
Sir Har. Ay, right, Numps, and so we do. Ha! ha! ha! Pray, brother, observe his make, none of your lath-backed wishy-washy breed. Come hither, Numps—Can't you stand still? [Apart.] [Measuring his shoulders.