VALENTINE.
Give him leave, madam, he is a kind of chameleon.
THURIO.
That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air.
VALENTINE.
You have said, sir.
THURIO.
Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.
VALENTINE.
I know it well, sir. You always end ere you begin.
SILVIA.
A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
VALENTINE.
’Tis indeed, madam, we thank the giver.
SILVIA.
Who is that, servant?
VALENTINE.
Yourself, sweet lady, for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship’s looks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.
THURIO.
Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.