Chignon. Que diable veut dire tout ça——vat devil, all dis mean?—Monsieur Alscrip enragé——Mademoiselle Alscrip fly about like de dancing fury at de Opera——My littel musicienne, shut up, and in de absence of madame, I keep de key of de littel bastille——By gad, I vou'd rader have de custody of my pretty prisoniere than the whole college of cardinals——but vat have we here?
Enter Sir Clement and Clifford.
Sir C. [Speaking to a Servant.] Mr. Alscrip not at home, no matter we'll wait his return——The French valet de chambre [To Clifford.]—It may be of use to make acquaintance with him—Monsieur, how do you like this country?
Chignon. Ver good contrée, sire, by and bye—when you grow a little more poor.
Sir C. Is that a Parisian rule for improvement?
Chignon. Yes, sir, and we help you to follow our example—In good times you hang, and you drown—In bad time you will be like us.—Alway poor—alway gay—forget your politics—laugh at your grievances—take your snuff, vive la dissipation,—ver good country.
Sir C. Thanks for your kind advice, monsieur, you Frenchmen are so obliging, and so communicative to strangers——I hear there is a young lady come into this family—we don't exactly know in what capacity—could not you contrive that she should pass through this room—or—
Chignon. [Aside.] By gar here be one more old rake after de littel musicienne.
Sir C. Only for curiosity,—we never saw her, and have particular reasons—
[Gives Money.