Therefore I find, that, for a hero, you have taken rather late to wear petticoats." Dagobert remained mute, but he gnawed his moustache, and plied the soap, with which he was rubbing the linen, in a most hurried, not to say angry style; for the face and words of the beast-tamer displeased him more than he cared to show.

Far from being discouraged, the Prophet continued: "I am sure, my fine fellow, that you are neither deaf nor dumb; why, then, will you not answer me ?" Losing all patience, Dagobert turned abruptly round, looked Morok full in the face, and said to him in a rough voice: "I don't know you: I don't wish to know you! Chain up your curb!" And he betook himself again to his washing.
"But we may make acquaintance.

We can drink a glass of Rhine-wine together, and talk of our campaigns.

I also have seen some service, I assure you; and that, perhaps, will induce you to be more civil." The veins on the bald forehead of Dagobert swelled perceptibly; he saw in the look and accent of the man, who thus obstinately addressed him, something designedly provoking; still he contained himself.
"I ask you, why should you not drink a glass of wine with me--we could talk about France.

I lived there a long time; it is a fine country; and when I meet Frenchmen abroad, I feel sociable--particularly when they know how to use the soap as well as you do.