Is there a quarrel, and suppose that I, thinking on your counsels, am something loth to engage in it, believe you I am left to decide between peace or war at my own choosing?
Not so, by St.Mary! there are a hundred round me to stir me on.

'Why, how now, Smith, is thy mainspring rusted ?' says one.

'Jolly Henry is deaf on the quarrelling ear this morning!' says another.

'Stand to it, for the honour of Perth,' says my lord the Provost.

'Harry against them for a gold noble,' cries your father, perhaps.