can you deny it?

VAL. Sir, I don't deny it.

SIR SAMP. Sirrah, you'll be hanged; I shall live to see you go up
Holborn Hill. Has he not a rogue's face? Speak brother, you
understand physiognomy, a hanging look to me--of all my boys the
most unlike me; he has a damned Tyburn face, without the benefit o'
the clergy.

FORE. Hum--truly I don't care to discourage a young man,--he has a
violent death in his face; but I hope no danger of hanging.

VAL. Sir, is this usage for your son?--For that old weather-headed
fool, I know how to laugh at him; but you, sir -

SIR SAMP. You, sir; and you, sir: why, who are you, sir?

VAL. Your son, sir.

SIR SAMP. That's more than I know, sir, and I believe not.

VAL. Faith, I hope not.

SIR SAMP. What, would you have your mother a whore? Did you ever
hear the like? Did you ever hear the like? Body o' me -

VAL. I would have an excuse for your barbarity and unnatural usage.

SIR SAMP. Excuse! Impudence! Why, sirrah, mayn't I do what I