Scull. De partrish, de faysan, de quailles?
Mons. [Aside.] This bougre vil ruine me too; but he speak wit dat bel eyre and grace, I cannot bid him hold his tongue, ventre! C'est assez, Pierrot, va-t'en. [Exit Scullion, and returns.
Scull. And de litel plate de—
Mons. Jarni! va-t'en. [Exit Scullion, and returns.
Scull. And de litel plate de—
Mons. De grace, go dy way. [Exit Scullion, and returns.
Scull. And de litel de—
Mons. De fromage de Brie, va-t'en!—go, go.
Flou. What's that? cheese that stinks?
Mons. Ay, ay, be sure it stinke extremente. Pierrot, va-t'en; but stay till I drink dy health:—here's to dat pretty fellow's health, madam.