Conceited One: “You speak of lips as though they were instruments of love.”

Kind Young Gentleman: “Are they not?”

Conceited One: “Nay sir, they are but the most treacherous among them. They utter naught but lies and bring betrayal all the more quickly.”

Kind Young Gentleman: “But what of love sir, love that you just professed ere this very evening to your beloved rose petal.”

Conceited One: “Love? What does thou know of love? Only those who have seen love can claim to know it so.”

Kind Young Gentleman: “You proceed to insult me sir, your tricks will show me no pain.”

Conceited One: “You indeed accuse me sir, of perusing to injure you. Well, you accuse falsely, and for that I can stand here no longer and call you neighbor; my equal.”

They duel; the Kind Young Gentleman is stabbed through the arm. The Conceited one runs off in fear as he hears his uncle, the King, approaching.

King: “Good son, what hadst though seen?”

Kind Young Gentleman: “I pray thee not ask that question sir, for my tongue is poisoned with words of fierce passion. I fear they shall spill forth ill words to you and your company.”

King: “Thou hadst been wounded by my kin and now own the right to say his sport against him.”

Kind Young Gentleman: “We dueled m' Lord and though I am shamed to say it sir, I will admit your kinsman won fairly but took naught from me but a small piece of pride, nothing more.”