"Ah! here is Jarnonville! Vivat! the victory is ours!"
"Come on our side, O Black Chevalier! you arrive in the nick of time; there's a girl to be kidnapped, and a clown to be beaten!"
"Vrai Dieu! it seems to me that there are a good many of you for such a small matter!" rejoined the Sire de Jarnonville, casting his eye over the crowd assembled before the barber's house.
"Yes; but the task is not so simple as you might think, my master; for we must obtain possession of this pretty wench without doing her the slightest harm; and yonder idiot, with his club, is capable of wounding the little one in trying to defend her."
"Ah! he knows how to handle the staff, does he? So much the better! we will judge of his talent."
"Sandioux! messeigneurs," cried Passedix, "why do you attack this child? and this stout youth whom she presses to her heart, rolling her lovely eyes to beseech our compassion?—I wish, first of all, to know the subject of the quarrel; and I object beforehand to any sort of force being put upon such a charming wench!"
"Come, come, valiant Passedix, just move away from that nag's hind quarters and come over to our side! Do you mean to desert our camp? are you going over to the Greeks?"
"Beware, second Don Quixote; we shall have no mercy for traitors!"
"Cadédis! if you think to frighten me, my boy, you waste your time and your words! With my good Roland, this trusty blade which came to me from my godfather Chaudoreille, I will spit you all like smelts, provided that this lovely child accepts me for her knight. One word from her sweet mouth, and I make mincemeat of you all!"
Bursts of laughter greeted the Gascon chevalier's braggadocio; but he, drawing his long sword, put the point to the ground before Miretta, and bent his knee as he said to her: