“I ain’t a rascal, but a poor devil with a wife and five children, and I can’t support ’em.”
“Well, you knave, why do you have children?”
“Well! monsieur l’intendant, that’s the only pleasure a man can get without money.”
“As if clowns like you ought to have any pleasure! Work, you dog, work; that’s your lot.”
“I haven’t got any work, and I earn so little, so little, that it’s hardly enough to keep us alive!”
“Because you eat like ogres!”
“I don’t ever eat enough, so’s to have some to give to the little ones.”
“Your little ones! your little ones! These rascals starve the whole province with their little ones!”
“Pardi! monsieur l’intendant, your master raises more than fifty dogs, and it seems to me that I can raise four or five children.”
“Fancy this wretch daring to compare his disgusting young ones with monseigneur’s greyhounds! Come, no arguing, you were caught poaching, your case is clear, and the theft is proved. You will be lashed, fined, and imprisoned!”