Here's a rogue,
brother Foresight, makes a bargain under hand and seal in the
morning, and would be released from it in the afternoon; here's a
rogue, dog, here's conscience and honesty; this is your wit now,
this is the morality of your wits! You are a wit, and have been a
beau, and may be a--why sirrah, is it not here under hand and seal--
can you deny it?
VAL. Sir, I don't deny it.
SIR SAMP. Sirrah, you'll be hanged; I shall live to see you go up
Holborn Hill. Has he not a rogue's face? Speak brother, you
understand physiognomy, a hanging look to me--of all my boys the
most unlike me; he has a damned Tyburn face, without the benefit o'
the clergy.
FORE. Hum--truly I don't care to discourage a young man,--he has a
violent death in his face; but I hope no danger of hanging.
VAL. Sir, is this usage for your son?--For that old weather-headed
fool, I know how to laugh at him; but you, sir -
SIR SAMP. You, sir; and you, sir: why, who are you, sir?
VAL. Your son, sir.
SIR SAMP. That's more than I know, sir, and I believe not.
VAL. Faith, I hope not.
SIR SAMP. What, would you have your mother a whore? Did you ever
hear the like? Did you ever hear the like? Body o' me -
VAL. I would have an excuse for your barbarity and unnatural usage.
SIR SAMP. Excuse! Impudence! Why, sirrah, mayn't I do what I
please? Are not you my slave? Did not I beget you? And might not
I have chosen whether I would have begot you or no? 'Oons, who are
you? Whence came you? What brought you into the world? How came
you here, sir? Here, to stand here, upon those two legs, and look
erect with that audacious face, ha? Answer me that! Did you come a
volunteer into the world? Or did I, with the lawful authority of a
parent, press you to the service?
VAL.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55