No sooner did he thus signify his intention, than
his adversary, swelling with rage, cocked his hat fiercely in his
face, and, fixing his hands in his sides, pronounced, with the most
imperious tone, "Hark ye, Mr. Round Periwig, you must know that
I am a mousquetaire." Scarce had this awful word escaped from his
lips, when the blood forsook the lips of the poor challenger, who,
with the most abject submission, begged pardon for his presumption,
and with difficulty obtained it, on condition that he should
immediately quit the place. Having thus exercised his authority,
he turned to one of his companions, and, with an air of disdainful
ridicule, told him he was like to have had an affair with a bourgeois;
adding, by way of heightening the irony, "Egad! I believe he is a
physician."
Our hero was so much shocked and irritated at this licentious
behaviour, that he could not suppress his resentment, which he
manifested by saying to this Hector, "Sir, a physician may be a man
of honour." To this remonstrance, which was delivered with a very
significant countenance, the mousquetaire made no other reply, but
that of echoing his assertion with a loud laugh, in which he was
joined by his confederates.
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