Ner. Wilt not bloosh to spaik yon words, an' to tak no thowt o'th kissin' o' yon poor cheel? Thou'lt not get clear o' ma claws; aa can tell thee! an spoit o' thy showin' thy teeth, aa'l mak thee know 'at aa'm thy woif, an' aa'l mak thee hang for it.
Chi. Fayther! fayther! fayther!
Mr. Pour. Help! help! Where shall I run?
Oro. Go; you will do right to have him punished, and he richly deserves to be hanged.
SCENE XI.——SBRIGANI (alone).
Everything has been done according to my wish, and is succeeding admirably. We will so weary out our provincial that he will only be too thankful to leave the place.
SCENE XII.——MR. DE POURCEAUGNAC, SBRIGANI.
Mr. Pour. Ah! I am murdered! What vexation! What a cursed town! Assassinated everywhere!
Sbri. What is it, Sir? Has anything new happened?
Mr. Pour. Yes; it rains doctors and women in this country.