Smith. Much good do't you, sir.
Bayes. Here now, Mr. Johnson, you shall see a combat betwixt love and honour. An ancient author has made a whole play on't;[32] but I have dispatch'd it all in this scene.
Volscius sits down to pull on his boots: Bayes stands by, and over-acts the part as he speaks it.
Vols. How has my passion made me Cupid's scoff!
This hasty boot is on, the other off,
And sullen lies, with amorous design,
To quit loud fame, and make that beauty mine.
Smith. Prithee, mark what pains Mr. Bayes takes to act this speech himself!
Johns. Yes, the fool, I see, is mightily transported with it.
Vols. My legs the emblem of my various thought