Deceived! Do I not know his form, his size, his manner? Fiends seize him! I know them too well: they are before mine eyes all day long.
DICKENSON.
Then, perhaps, they were only before your eyes now in the same manner.
CHARVILLE.
No, no, no! Thou makest me mad. Do I not know one thing from another? Cannot one know one hateful face from another, though one be not absolutely within arms' length of the pest?
DICKENSON.
Nay, if your honour saw the face.
CHARVILLE.
Saw it or saw it not, I'll be sworn it was him. Did you not say yourself that you saw a man run hastily up stairs?
DICKENSON.
Yes, Sir; but it appeared to me to be Mr. Smitchenstault.
CHARVILLE.
Smitchenstault! Think'st thou I should not know a hog from a greyhound? Is Smitchenstault tall?
