nging the golden keys of the citadel of her
heart, upon a salver of silver, offer them to me upon her bended knees,
with streaming eyes and dishevelled tresses, begging for grace and
favour in my sight. Go now, and summon the fortress to surrender--this
house contains the rebellious fair."

But doors and windows remain inexorably closed, and no notice is taken
of the valet's thundering knocks and mocking summons to surrender;
secure in the strength of their bolts and bars, the garrison, which
consists of Isabelle and her maid, vouchsafes no reply. Matamore,
becoming more enraged at each vain attempt to gain a response from
his fair enemy, stamps about the stage, roaring out his defiance,
threatening to sack and burn the place, pouring out volleys of
remarkable oaths, and lashing himself into such a fury that he actually
foams at the mouth. When his valet at length, after many vain efforts,
is able to gain a hearing, and tells him of his formidable rival,
Leander, and how he has already won the lady's heart, all his rage is
turned against that fortunate suitor, of whom he vows that he will
make mince-meat as soon as he can lay hands on him. At this very moment
Leander himself returns, and Scapin points him out to his master as he
approaches, adding that he will keep a sharp look-out for the police
while Matamore is giving him his quietus. But the cowardly braggadocio
would fain withdraw, now that the enemy is actually in sight, and is
only restrained from flight by his servant, who pushes him forward
directly in Leander's path.

Seeing that escape is impossible, Matamore settles his hat firmly on his
head, twists the long ends of his mustache, puts his hand on the hilt
of his big sword, and advances threateningly towards Leander--but it is
pure bravado, for his teeth are chattering with fear, and his long, thin
legs waver and tremble under him visibly, like reeds shaken by the
wind. Only one hope remains to him--that of intimidating Leander by loud
threats and ferocious gestures, if, by a happy chance, he be a fellow of
his own kidney. So in a terrible voice he addresses him thus: "Sir, do
you know that I am the great Captain Matamore of the celebrated house
of Cuerno de Cornazan, and allied to the no less illustrious family
of Escobombardon de la Papirontonda? I am a descendant, on my mother's
side, of the famous Antacus, the ancient hero and giant."

"Well, you may be a descendant of the man in the moon for all that