SCENE VIII.—MASCARILLE, TWO CHAIRMEN.
MASC. Stop, chairman, stop. Easy does it! Easy, easy! I think these boobies intend to break me to pieces by bumping me against the walls and the pavement.
1 CHAIR. Ay, marry, because the gate is narrow and you would make us bring you in here.
MASC. To be sure, you rascals! Would you have me expose the fulness of my plumes to the inclemency of the rainy season, and let the mud receive the impression of my shoes? Begone; take away your chair.
2 CHAIR. Then please to pay us, sir.
MASC. What?
2 CHAIR. Sir, please to give us our money, I say.
MASC. (Giving him a box on the ear). What, scoundrel, to ask money from a person of my rank!
2 CHAIR. Is this the way poor people are to be paid? Will your rank get us a dinner?
MASC. Ha, ha! I shall teach you to keep your right place. Those low fellows dare to make fun of me!