CHARLES. No, Sir, you may take up my words. [_Exit WEASEL._] Had the fellow been a Constable he might have taken me up also, for in this apparel I look more like a highwayman than a gentleman in a highway. How very cold it is! I wish that the triangular-nosed fellow would make haste; and yet my heart misgives me. I must ‘screw my courage to the sticking point!’ Impudence, impudence is my passport! I hear him shuffling downstairs. Be hardy, bold, and resolute, my heart.