--Let him come forward!
KASTRIL.
Very good! very good!--For the QUARREL OPSTREPEROUS, that I
easily conceive.--An antagonist objects shrewdly--I cannot
invent an answer.--In that case, there is nothing to be done but
to drown his reasons in noise--nonsense--and vociferation.
SUBTLE.
Come to my arms, my dear Kastril! O thou art an apt
scholar--thou wilt be nonpareil in the art of brawling!--But for
the QUARREL SENSITIVE--
KASTRIL.
Ay, that I confess I don't understand.
SUBTLE.
Why, it is thus, my dear boy--A minister is apt to be
sore.--Every man cannot have the phlegm of Burleigh.--And an
angry boy is sorest of all.--In that case--an objection is made
that would dumbfound any other man--he parries it with--my
honour--and my integrity--and the rectitude of my intentions--my
spotless fame--my unvaried truth--and the greatness of my
abilities--And so gives no answer at all.
KASTRIL.
Excellent! excellent!
SUBTLE.
The QUARREL OBLIQUE is easy enough.--It is only to talk in
general terms of places and pensions--the loaves and the
fishes--a struggle for power--a struggle for power--And it will
do excellent well, if at a critical moment--you can throw in a
hint of some forty or fifty millions unaccounted for by some
people's grandfathers and uncles dead fifty years ago.
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