LA CONTAT. God save us!
HULIN. Hoche! [He takes hold of HOCHE'S arm.]
HOCHE. What's the matter?
HULIN. It's he!
HOCHE. Who?
HULIN. Vintimille.
VINTIMILLE. Messieurs, M. de Vintimille's upholsterer asks permission to speak.—
THE CROWD. Hear the upholsterer!
VINTIMILLE. Messieurs, you are quite right in wishing to burn that blackguard aristocrat, who makes game of you, despises you, and who goes about saying that dogs ought to be whipped when they show their teeth. Burn, Messieurs, by all means burn, but I warn you, take care that the flame of your just fury does not scorch you, and demolish what is yours along with what is his. Let me ask you first of all, Messieurs, whether it is right to ruin M. de Vintimille and those who ruin him—his creditors, that is? At least allow me to beg you to spare the furniture, which belongs to me, and for which the scoundrel has not paid a son.
CROWD. Take back your furniture!