LORD. We accept thy promise, now return thee this,
A virtuous wife: accept her with a kiss.
SCAR. My honourable lord!
LORD. Fear not to take her, man: she will fear neither,
Do what thou canst, being both abed together.
SCAR. O, but my lord—
LORD. But me? dog of wax! come kiss, and agree,
Your friends have thought it fit, and it must be.
SCAR. I have no hands to take her to my wife.
LORD. How, sauce-box?
SCAR. O, pardon me, my lord; the unripeness of my years,
Too green for government, is old in fears
To undertake that charge.
LORD. Sir, sir, and sir knave, then here is a mellowed experience knows how to teach you.
SCAR. O God.