Stop! stop! stop! now don't be in such a plaguy hurry. The holy brethren and sisters are just before us, and you, with your noise, would interrupt their merry solemnity.
First Citizen.
Merry solemnity, do you call it?
Hugo.
Ay, truly—they have just chaunted a solemn requiem in annual memory of the king's departed sister—and now, a merry occasion calls them forth to meet our good old king himself, who has been fighting for his people, conquered his foes, and deserves the thanks of all his friends.
Second Citizen.
Then why stand we here?
Hugo.
Why not? The king will pass through that gate, for the opening of which we have so long waited—and instead of going to the show, if we tarry a few moments, the show will come to us.
Third Citizen.