"Those great ladies would do well if they gave you another doublet, for yours has well earned its retirement."
"My dear fellow, love doesn't pause for such trifles; I please with or without a doublet; the figure is everything, and I'm more than a match for many a chevalier covered with tinsel and gewgaws; besides, if I wished to have some lace or cuffs or trinkets, I should not have to give more than a smile for them. Ah, by Jove!—Take care there, my brave Touquet. See! your neighbor's dog is going to take my ruff. Ah, the rogue! he's holding it in his chops."
"You must take it away from him."
"That's very easy for you to say. That cursed dog bites everybody."
Chaudoreille got up, half shaved, and ran and took his sword, which he drew from the scabbard; but during this time the dog had left the shop, carrying off the ruff, and the boastful chevalier pursued him into the street, crying,—
"My ruff! Zounds, my ruff! Stop thief!"
The shouts of Chaudoreille made the dog run more quickly, and the passers-by looked on with astonishment at the half-dressed man, with one cheek shaven and the other covered with soap, who ran, sword in hand, crying, "Stop thief!" The idlers gathered—for there were idlers as early as 1632—and followed Chaudoreille, that they might see the end of the adventure. The children stoned the dog, which redoubled its speed, passed through an alleyway and disappeared from Chaudoreille's sight. The latter, who could do no more, stopped at length, heaving a big sigh. His anger was redoubled when he saw everybody looking and laughing at him; he swore then, but so low that nobody could hear him; and, making the best of his way through the crowd which surrounded him, he sadly regained the barber's house.
"You must be a fool, to run through the street like that," said Touquet, who had grown impatient during Chaudoreille's race; "you deserve that I shouldn't finish shaving you."
"Oh, zounds! that is very easy for you to say; I have been robbed—a magnificent ruff."
"You can put on another."