[Exit.
La Gloire. There he goes! full of sour goodness, like a fine lemon. He's as trusty a crusty citizen, and as goodnatured an ill tempered old fellow, as any in France: and, though I say it, that shouldn't say it—I am his son.——But, now, neighbours, for provision.
3 Cit. Ay, marry! we would fain fall to.
La Gloire. I doubt it not, good hungry neighbours: you'll all remember me for this succour, I warrant.
All. Toujours; always.
La Gloire. See now what it is to bind one's country to one, by doing it a service. Good souls, they are running over with gratitude—[Walks about, Citizens following.]—I could cluck them all round the town after my tail, like an old hen with a brood of chickens. Now will I be carried in triumph to my father's: and ye may e'en set about it now—[Two stout Citizens take La Gloire on their Shoulders.]—now, while the provisions are sharing at the Governor's house.
[Citizens let him fall.
All. Sharing provisions! Allons! vite!—away! away!
[Exeunt Citizens hastily.
La Gloire. Oh diable! this is popularity. Adieu, my grateful neighbours! Thus does many a fool-hardy booby, like me, run his head into danger; and a few empty huzzas, which leave him at the next turning of a corner, are all he gets for his pains. Now, while all the town is gone to dinner, will I go to woo. My poor Madelon must be woefully fallen away, since I quitted Calais, Heigho! I've lost, I warrant me, a good half of my mistress since we parted. I have secured for her the daintiest bits of our whole cargo, as marks of my affection. A butcher couldn't show her more tenderness than I shall. If love were now weighed out by the pound, bating my master, the Count Ribaumont, who is in love with Lady Julia, not all the men in the city could balance the scales with me.