"Hi—hi—hi—we shall now have a good laugh. You old toothless dog, why do you not hold the candle straight?"
"Seigneur, I am very old—my arm grows tired despite myself."
"So, then, you are tired?"
"Alas! Yes, seigneur!"
"Yet you know that he who does not hold up his torch straight is regaled with fifty lashes!"
"Seigneur, my strength fails me!"
"Do you say so?"
"Yes, yes, seigneur—my fingers are numb—they can no longer hold the torch—it will soon fall down—"
"Poor old man—come, put out your torch."
"Thanks, thanks, seigneur!"