[Torie]

You are a haughty chap. Your problem is relative youth I suspect. When you reach the glorious age of 50, you might perceive more of the greys. Don't take it personally. When I was 30, I was insufferable too.

[cornelis]

You are a haughty chap

Cornelis:
The fault, dear Torie, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Torie, and Bloom. What should be in that Bloom?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name.
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well.
Weigh them, it is as heavy, Conjure with 'em,
Torie will start a spirit as soon as Bloom.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Bloom feed
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!

[cornelis]

You are a haughty chap.

Sorry about that. My apologies.