Punch. I say it is a drum.
Servant. It is a drum, Mr. Punch.
Punch. I say it is a trumpet.
Servant. Well, so it is a trumpet. But bell, organ, fiddle, drum or trumpet, my master, he say he no lika de music.
Punch. Then bell, organ, fiddle, drum or trumpet, Mr. Punch, he say your master is a fool.
Servant. And he say, too, he will not have it near his house.
Punch. He’s a fool, I say, not to like my sweet music. Tell him so: be off. (hits him with the bell) Get along. (driving the Servant round the stage, backwards, and striking him often with the bell) Be off, be off. (knocking him off the stage. Exit Servant. Punch continues to ring the bell as loudly as before, while he sings and dances.)
Re-enter Servant, slyly, with a stick.
(Punch perceiving him, retreats behind the side curtain, and remains upon the watch. The Servant does the same, but leaves the end of the stick visible. Punch again comes forward, sets down his bell very gently, and creeps across the stage, marking his steps with his hands upon the platform, to ascertain whereabouts his enemy is. He then returns to his bell, takes it up, and, going quietly over the stage, hits the Servant a heavy blow through the curtain, and exit, ringing his bell on the opposite side.)