Why so fierce, my good sir?
NORTH.
Fierce! I may well be fierce. What! Cassio's desire to see Desdemona cool before morning—Iago's desire to drive him on to his destruction cool too—and both walk away without further heed—and when next seen, after an interval of some weeks or months, talking about not having been in bed during some other night on which nothing particular has happened! Bah!
TALBOYS.
Sir, I do not like to see you so much excited. You mistake me—I was merely, at your bidding, assisting you in your expiscation of the Time—we are at one about it—
NORTH.
My dear Talboys, forgive me—my irascibility is a disease—
TALBOYS.
Health—health—exuberant health of mind and body—May you live a thousand years.