Maid. Er—h'm. (Coyly.) Wilt not tell me of thy early life, noble sir, how thou didst become a catcher of rats?
Rat-catcher (disgusted). You coward! (Aloud.) Nay, rather let me hear of thine own life. (Aside.) Scored.
Maid. That's not fair. I asked you first. (Modestly.) But I am such a little thing, and you are so noble a youth.
Rat-catcher. True. (Having a dash at it.) 'Twas thus. My father, when I was yet a child, didst—did—no, didst—apprentice me to a salad binger——
Maid (with interest). How dost one bing salads?
Rat-catcher (curtly). Ballad singer. And I would frequent the market-place at noon, singing catches and glees, and receiving from the entranced populace divers coins, curses, bricks and other ornaments. One morn, as I was embarked upon a lovely ballad, "Place me amidst the young gazelles," I was seized right suddenly from behind. (Bored to death.) I'm sick of this. We're supposed to be amusing the audience.
Maid. Oh, go on, I'm getting awfully amused.
Emperor (audibly from green-room). Confound it, it's begun again.
Executioner (bitterly). And to think that I spent hours putting red ink on my axe!
Maid (with great presence of mind). What's that? Surely that was a rat.