A Walk in Rome.
(Enter a Rheumatic and Dyspeptic Englishman from a Hotel on the Piazza di Spagna. Fifty single and double horse flys instantly rush at him.)
Englishman (leaping wildly in the air). No, no; I’m going for a walk!
(Flys retire slowly, dropping off one by one as Englishman continues to dodge under the horses’ heads, to weep and wail, and beg to be allowed to go for a walk.)
(Enter a Man with Laces, a Man with Coral, and a Man with Views of Rome.)
Men (surrounding Englishman). Volete! Volete!
Englishman. No, no; I don’t want anything. Let me pass. I’m going for a quiet walk to calm my nerves.
(After a quarter of an hour’s race distances the three men, and stops and mops his brow.)
Englishman. At last! Now for a quiet stroll and a little calm meditation.