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Box and Cox : A Romance of Real Life in One Act. ox. I say, sir! Cox. Well, sir? Box. What’s your opinion of duelling, sir? Cox. I think it’s a barbarous practice, sir. Box. So do I, sir. To be sure, I don’t so much object to it when the pistols are not loaded. Cox. No: I dare say that does make some difference. Box. And yet, sir—on the other hand—doesn’t it strike you as rather a waste of time, for two people to keep firing pistols at one another, with nothing in ’em? Cox. No, sir—not more than any other harmless recreation. Box. Hark ye! Why do you object to marry Penelope Ann? Cox. Because, as I’ve observed already, I can’t abide her. You’ll be very happy with her. Box. Happy! Me! With the consciousness that I have deprived you of such a treasure? No, no, Cox! Cox. Don’t think of me, Box—I shall be sufficiently rewarded by the knowledge of my Box’s happiness. Box. Don’t be absurd, sir! Cox. Then don’t you be ridiculous, sir! Box. I won’t have her! Cox. I won’t have her! Box. I have it! Suppose we draw lots for the lady—eh, Mr. Cox? Cox. That’s fair enough, Mr. Box. Box. Or, what say you to dice? Cox. With all my heart! Dice, by all means—[Eagerly.] Box. [Aside.] That’s lucky! Mrs. Bouncer’s nephew left a pair here yesterday. He sometimes persuades me to have a throw for a trifle, and as he always throws sixes, I suspect they are good ones.