Sir Anth. Zounds, sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull’s in Cox’s museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew; she shall be all this, sirrah! yet, I’ll make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty.
Capt. A. This is reason and moderation, indeed!
Sir Anth. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humour for mirth in my life.
Sir Anth. ’Tis false, sir; I know you are laughing in your sleeve! I know you’ll grin when I am gone, sirrah!
Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better.
Sir Anth. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please; it won’t do with me, I promise you.
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.
Sir Anth. ’Tis a confounded lie! I know you are in a passion at your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog; but it won’t do.
Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word——