ANG. You're an absolute courtier, Sir Sampson.

SIR SAMP. Not at all, madam,--odsbud, you wrong me,--I am not so
old neither, to be a bare courtier, only a man of words. Odd, I
have warm blood about me yet, and can serve a lady any way. Come,
come, let me tell you, you women think a man old too soon, faith and
troth you do. Come, don't despise fifty; odd, fifty, in a hale
constitution, is no such contemptible age.

ANG. Fifty a contemptible age! Not at all; a very fashionable age,
I think. I assure you, I know very considerable beaus that set a
good face upon fifty. Fifty! I have seen fifty in a side box by
candle-light out-blossom five-and-twenty.

SIR SAMP. Outsides, outsides; a pize take 'em, mere outsides. Hang
your side-box beaus; no, I'm none of those, none of your forced
trees, that pretend to blossom in the fall, and bud when they should
bring forth fruit: I am of a long-lived race, and inherit vigour;
none of my ancestors married till fifty, yet they begot sons and
daughters till fourscore: I am of your patriarchs, I, a branch of
one of your antedeluvian families, fellows that the flood could not
wash away. Well, madam, what are your commands? Has any young
rogue affronted you, and shall I cut his throat? Or -

ANG. No, Sir Sampson, I have no quarrel upon my hands. I have more
occasion for your conduct than your courage at this time. To tell
you the truth, I'm weary of living single and want a husband.

SIR SAMP. Odsbud, and 'tis pity you should. Odd, would she would
like me, then I should hamper my young rogues. Odd, would she