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"Ha! ha! ha! ha! My respects, my respects! Ha! ha! ha! Excellent,

first-class! Officers, some people hunt by day, but you by night!

The hunting was good; I have seen the game. Pluck, pluck the

gentry, peel them well; bridle them, for the gentry sometimes

kick! I congratulate you, Major, that you have caught the young

Count; he is a fat morsel, a rich fellow, a young man of old

family; don't let him out of the cage without getting three

hundred ducats for him; and when you have them, give some

three-pence for my monastery and for me, for I always pray for

your soul. As I am a Bernardine, I am very anxious about your

soul! Death pulls even staff-officers by the ears. Baka162 wrote

well-that Death seizes on sinners at dinners, and on silken

frocks she often knocks, and monks' cowls she slashes like satin

sashes, and the curb of girls she raps like shoulder-straps.