SIL. Ah! zounds! I am delighted at it. (To ARGANTE) You are an enemy of that scoundrel Argante, are you?
SCA. Yes, yes; I assure you that it is so.
SIL. (shaking ARGANTE'S hand roughly). Shake hands, shake hands. I give you my word, I swear upon my honour, by the sword I wear, by all the oaths I can take, that, before the day is over, I shall have delivered you of that rascally knave, of that scoundrel Argante. Trust me.
SCA. But, Sir, violent deeds are not allowed in this country.
SIL. I don't care, and I have nothing to lose.
SCA. He will certainly take his precautions; he has relations, friends, servants, who will take his part against you.
SIL. Blood and thunder! It is all I ask, all I ask. (Drawing his sword.) Ah! s'death! ah! s'blood! Why can I not meet him at this very moment, with all these relations and friends of his? If he would only appear before me, surrounded by a score of them! Why do they not fall upon me, arms in hand? (Standing upon his guard.) What! you villains! you dare to attack me? Now, s'death! Kill and slay! (He lunges out on all sides; as if he were fighting many people at once.) No quarter; lay on. Thrust. Firm. Again. Eye and foot. Ah! knaves! ah! rascals! ah! you shall have a taste of it. I'll give you your fill. Come on, you rabble! come on. That's what you want, you there. You shall have your fill of it, I say. Stick to it, you brutes; stick to it. Now, then, parry; now, then, you. (Turning towards ARGANTE and SCAPIN.) Parry this; parry. You draw back? Stand firm, man! S'death! What! Never flinch, I say.
SCA. Sir, we have nothing to do with it.
SIL. That will teach you to trifle with me.