We shall be well rid of him. Let him go.

PERCIVAL. Not until he has taken back and made the fullest apology
for the abominable lie he has told. He shall do that or he shall
defend himself as best he can against the most thorough thrashing I'm
capable of giving him. _[Releasing Gunner, but facing him ominously]_
Take your choice. Which is it to be?

GUNNER. Give me a fair chance. Go and stick at a desk from nine to
six for a month, and let me have your grub and your sport and your
lessons in boxing, and I'll fight you fast enough. You know I'm no
good or you darent bully me like this.

PERCIVAL. You should have thought of that before you attacked a lady
with a dastardly slander. I'm waiting for your decision. I'm rather
in a hurry, please.

GUNNER. I never said anything against the lady.

MRS TARLETON. | Oh, listen to that!
|
BENTLEY. | What a liar!
|
HYPATIA. | Oh!
|
TARLETON. | Oh, come!

PERCIVAL. We'll have it in writing, if you dont mind. _[Pointing to
the writing table]_ Sit down; and take that pen in your hand.
_[Gunner looks irresolutely a little way round; then obeys]._ Now