A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 116: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Iz2 A GENTLEMAN FROM GASCONY, prominent among them, by his swaggering manner and boastful language, being Annibal Goujon, sergeant of the king’s guard and husband of pretty Rose. The worthy sergeant had evidently been indulging in quite as much wine as was good for him, for his always Jorid complexion was now of a bright scarlet and his speech was thick and guttural. Ever and anon he cast an angry glance at the Tzigani, whose music distracted the attention of his comrades from his own remarks, and Annibal, in his overween- ing vanity, always. desired to be the chief figure in every scene at which he was present. Finally, annoyed beyond all endurance, he rose un- steadily from his seat, and, bringing his huge fist down upon the table with a violence that set the bottles and glasses to dancing, he bellowed out: “Silence, you gypsy mummers! Your caterwauling turns the wine sour! A song to please Annibal Goujon must have the clank of steel in it!” And to punctuate his remarks he gave his sword-hilt a resounding slap. The music of the guitar ceased, and the girls paused in dismay. “ By the corns of Saint Ursula, see that we have no more of it! If you want a song, I’ll give you a beauty. And,” with a glare about him, “ who fails to join in the chorus, I'll slit his nose with my dagger!” And, with- out further ado, he struck a swashbuckler attitude, and began to roar out in a voice which, if nothing else, had plenty of lung power: “Here’s a health to the Duke of Guise Whose name makes all heretics pale; Whose sword beats the chaff from the corn, So we’ve dubbed it the Catholic flail.” Comicbhoo S (e[@)