Acres. Nothing—nothing—my dear friend—my dear Sir Lucius— but I—I—I don’t feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did.

Acres. Sir Lucius—I doubt it is going—yes—my valour is certainly going!—it is sneaking off!—I feel it oozing out as it were at the palms of my hands!

Sir Luc. Observe me, Mr. Acres—I must not be trifled with. You have certainly challenged somebody—and you came here to fight him. Now, if that gentleman is willing to represent him—I can’t see, for my soul, why it isn’t just the same thing.