ENTER SCARAMOUCH - With a Stick
Scaramouch. Hollo ! Mr. Punch! What have you been doing to my poor dog?
Punch. [Retreating behind the side scene, on observing the stick, and peeping round the corner.] Ha ! my good friend ! how you do? glad to see you look so well. [Aside.] I wish you were farther with your nasty great stick.
Scaramouch. You have been beating and ill-using my poor dog, Mr. Punch.
Punch. He has been biting and ill-using my poor nose. - What have got there, sir?
Punch. In your hand? Scaramouch. A fiddle.
Punch. A fiddel! what a pretty thing is a fiddel! Can you play upon that fiddel?
Scaramouch. Come here, and I'll try.
Punch. No, thank youĞ I can hear the music here, very well.
Scaramouch. Then you shall try yourself. Can you play?
Punch. [Coming in.] I do not know, 'til I try. Let me see! [Takes the stick, and moves slowly about, singing the tune of the Marche des Marseillois. He hits Scaramouch a slight blow on his high cap, as if by accident.]
Scaramouch. You play very well, Mr. Punch. Now, let me try. I will give you a lesson how to play the fiddle. [Takes the stick, and dances to the same tune, hitting Punch a hard blow on the back of his head.] There's sweet music for you.
Punch. I no like you playing so well as my own. Let me again. [Takes the stick, and dances as before: in the course of his dance he gets behind Scaramouch, and, with a violent blow, knocks his head clean off his shoulders.] How you like that tune, my good friend? That sweet music, or sour music, eh! - He! he! he! [Laughing, and throwing away the stick.] You'll never hear such another tune, so long as you live, my boy. [Sings the tune of " Malbroug," and dances to it.] Judy! Judy, my dear! Judy! can't you answer, my dear'
Judy. [Within.] Well! what do you want, Mr. Punch?
Punch. Come up stairs: I want you.
Judy. Then want must be your master. I'm busy.
Punch. [Singing, tune " Malbroug."]
Judy, my dear! [Calling.] Judy, my love! pretty Judy ! come up stairs.
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