Let them do whatever they can,
They never can stand his talking and grinning, oh.
Enter a Servant, in a foreign livery.
Servant. Mr. Punch, my master, he say he no like dat noise.
Punch (with surprise, and mocking him). Your master, he say he no like that noise! What noise?
Servant. Dat nasty noise.
Punch. Do you call music a noise?
Servant. My master he no lika de music, Mr. Punch, so he’ll have no more noise near his house.
Punch. He don’t, don’t he? Very well. (Punch runs about the stage, ringing his bell as loudly as he can.)
Servant. Get away, I say, wid dat nasty bell.