another and more solemn oath: having uttered it, he threw himself back on his seat with a heavy sigh, and, in a tone of command, as well as supplication, exclaimed,—
"For the love of Heaven!"—
"Mercy upon me!" cried Perpetua, "what a wretch: what a tyrant! Does he not fear God?"
"Will you be silent? or do you want to ruin me completely?"
"Oh! we are here alone, no one can hear us. But what will my poor master do?"
"See there now," said Don Abbondio, in a peevish tone, "see the fine advice you give me. To ask of me, what I'll do? what I'll do? as if you were the one in difficulty, and it was for me to help you out!"
"Nay, I could give you my own poor opinion; but then—"
"But—but then, let us know it."
"My opinion would be, that, as every one says our archbishop is a saint, a man of courage, and not to be frightened by an ugly phiz, and who will take pleasure in upholding a curate against one of these tyrants; I should say, and do say, that you had better write him a handsome letter, to inform him as how"
"Will you be silent! will you be silent! Is this advice to offer a poor man? When I get a pistol bullet in my side—God preserve me!—will the archbishop take it out?"
"Ah! pistol bullets are not given away like sugar-plums; and it were woful if those dogs should bite every time they bark. If a man knows how to show his teeth, and make himself feared, they hold him in respect: we should not have been brought to such a pass, if you had stood upon your rights. Now, all come to us (by your good leave) to"
"Will you be silent?"
"Certainly; but it is true though, that when the world sees one is always ready, in every encounter, to lower"
"Will you be silent? Is this a time for such idle talk?"
