Hip. No, you should rally your rival, and rather make a jest of your quarrel to him; and that, I suppose, is French too.
Mons. 'Tis so, 'tis so, cousine; 'tis the veritable French method; for your Englis, for want of wit, drive every thing to a serious grum quarrel, and then would make a jest on't, when 'tis too late, when they can't laugh, jarni!
Hip. Yes, yes, I would have you rally him soundly: do not spare him a jot.—But shall you see him to-night?
Mons. Ay, ay.
Hip. Yes; pray be sure to see him for the jest's sake.
Mons. I will—for I love a jest as well as any bel esprit of 'em all—da!
Hip. Ay, and rally him soundly; be sure you rally him soundly, and tell him just thus:—that the lady he has so long courted, from the great window of the Ship tavern, is to be your wife to-morrow, unless he come at his wonted hour of six in the morning to her window to forbid the banns; for 'tis the first and last time of asking; and if he come not, let him for ever hereafter stay away, and hold his tongue.
Mons. Ha! ha! ha! a ver good jest, tête bleu!
Hip. And if the fool should come again, I would tell him his own, I warrant you, cousin. My gentleman should be satisfied for good and all, I'd secure him.