I felt shrunk
to nothing, and could have crept into a rat-hole - unluckily, none was
open to receive me. Before I could recover from my confusion, I was
tumbled over by Pantaloon and the clown; and I felt the sword of
Harlequin making vigorous assaults, in a manner most degrading to my
dignity.
Heaven and earth! was I again to suffer martyrdom in this ignominious
manner, in the knowledge, and even before the very eyes of this most
beautiful, but most disdainful of fair ones? All my long-smothered
wrath broke out at once; the dormant feelings of the gentleman arose
within me; stung to the quick by intolerable mortification, I sprang on
my feet in an instant; leaped upon Harlequin like a young tiger; tore
off his mask; buffeted him in the face, and soon shed more blood on the
stage than had been spilt upon it during a whole tragic campaign of
battles and murders.
As soon as Harlequin recovered from his surprise he returned my assault
with interest. I was nothing in his hands. I was game to be sure, for I
was a gentleman; but he had the clownish advantages of bone and muscle.
I felt as if I could have fought even unto the death; and I was likely
to do so; for he was, according to the vulgar phrase, "putting my head
into Chancery," when the gentle Columbine flew to my assistance.
