[Fierce aside. (Here you draw the chair forward, and, placing yourself behind it, speak the following lines with easy fluency, accompanied by such pantomime as may suggest itself to you.)
I crave your pardon for my tardiness,—
Allow me to dispose these lendings—thus:
[Here you shake out the wrapper.
This band above the elbows—tighter—so.
I do assure you, Sir, this is no gag—
'Tis but a poor contrivance of mine own
To guard the mouth against th' encroaching sud.
Refreshing, Sir, indeed, this change of weather!
But one more knot.... and now
(here you stride to a position in front of the chair, which you survey with folded arms, and a mocking smile)
—my feigning's done!
Writhe as you will, I have you at my mercy.
Baldwin McAssir, have we met at last?
[In a terrible voice.
You know me not?—then quail, for I am he
By you bereft of Bandolina's love!
Fear not that I would stoop to seek your life—
My vengeance shall be sated on your hair,
And that is doomed to perish past recall!
Cast up your eyes to yonder whirling wheel:
[Point to ceiling with air of command.
Then on this brush—'tis set with bristling wires
(Some frivoller termed it my Cheveux de Frizz),
Which, with revolving teeth, shall shortly rake
Those curls by Bandolina oft caressed,