Of his first breeches: and, like the most of men,
He speaks so slowly, you can almost catch
The creaking of his wits between the words.

RUTH:
Well: I’ve a tongue for two: and you, yourself,
Don’t lack for ...

BELL:
So, all’s settled: you’ve arranged
The world for your convenience; and have planned
Your mothers’ lives between you? I’m to be
The dear old grannie in the ingleneuk;
And hide my grizzled wisps in a mutch with frills?
Nay, God forbid! I’m no tame pussycat,
To snuggle on the corner of a settle,
With one eye open for the chance-thrown titbit,
While the good housewife goes about her duties:
Me! lapping with blinking eyes and possing paws,
The saucer of skim-milk that young skinflint spares me,
And purring, when her darlings pull my tail--
Great-grandchildren, too, to Ezra, on both sides.
Ay: you may gape like a brace of guddled brandling:
But that old bull-trout’s grandsire to you both;
And a double dose of his blue blood will run
In the veins of your small fry--if fish have veins.

MICHAEL:
You surely never mean to say ...