Toupee. Yes, I will shave you very clean;—here is de bon razor for shave de beard. [Draws the razor over the back of Humphry's hand, to shew him it can cut a hair.]
Humphry. [Bellowing out.] You ill-looking, lousy, beard-combing, head-shaving rascal! Did you ever know any body for to have a beard upon their hand?
Toupee. You be von big 'merican brute, sur mon âme!
Humphry. You lie, as the saying is. What a mouth he makes whenever he goes for to talk his gibberage!—He screws it up for all the world like a pickled oyster. I must have a care I don't get some of that snuff out of his nose.
Toupee. You please for taste de snuff?
Humphry. I don't care if I smell some. [Takes a pinch of snuff, which makes him sneeze, while Toupee is shaving him; by which he gets his face cut.]
Toupee. Prenez garde à vous!
Humphry. The devil take the snuff and you!
[Going.
Toupee. S'il vous plaît, monsieur, you vill please for take de—de—vat is dat—de lettre—de shallange to monsieur de Schoolmastare, for fight me?