"Yes; there you are sighing: that 'heigho!' was dreadful."
"Scoffer!"
"No; I am your rival."
"Very well; I warn you that I intend to push the siege; take care of your interests."
"I'm not afraid."
"I am going to see Belle-bouche again to-morrow.
"Faith, I'll be there, then."
"Good; war is opened then—the glove thrown?"
"War to the death! Good-by, publican!"
"Farewell, sinner!"