[_Who has been regarding him through this speech with glowering eyes._] "As long as thou canst stand"? That will be for no long period, O thou litigious one! [_He points at him with his forefinger._] On all fours--[_MR. WACKERBATH starts in speechless indignation, and bends slightly forward_]--thankless dog that thou art, and crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days! MR. WACKERBATH. How _dare_ you address me in that way, sir! How----[_He suddenly drops forward on his hands._] I will _not_ go down on all fours! Do you hear, sir? I will not! PRINGLE. [_Horrified._] But--Great Heavens, sir, you _are_ on all fours! HORACE. [_Seizing FAKRASH'S arm._] Now, Fakrash--just you stop this! FAKRASH. [_Shaking HORACE off._] Let me be! [_To MR. WACKERBATH._] Begone, O contemptible of aspect! To thy kennel! MR. WACKERBATH. [_Almost whining, as he crawls distractedly about on all fours._] I can't! I won't! I _can't_ cross Westminster Bridge like this! What will the officials think at Waterloo, where I've been known and respected for years? How am I to face my wife and family in--in my present position? I _insist_ on getting up! PRINGLE. Then, my dear sir, why _don't_ you? Why _humour_ him? MR. WACKERBATH. Why, why? Because I can't _help_ myself! Damn it, sir, do you suppose I'm doing this for my own amusement? [_To FAKRASH._] Here, turn off your will-power, or whatever it is, and let me up! _Do_ let me up! HORACE. [_In disgust._] I'll not _have_ it, Fakrash! Let him up at once! FAKRASH. Far be this action from me! This son of a burnt dog hath dared to disdain a palace--therefore let his abode be in the dust for evermore! MR. WACKERBATH. [_Crawling to HORACE._] You--you _quite_ misunderstood me--I haven't a _word_ to say against the palace. It's the very place I _wanted_! [_Crawling up to FAKRASH._] If--if you'll only let me up, I--I'll _live_ in it--'pon my honour I will! HORACE. [_With authority, to FAKRASH._] Let this unfortunate gentleman up, will you! I _command_ you. Both on the head and eye! FAKRASH. [_Sullenly, to HORACE._] But for the magnitude of thy services----! Be it as thou wilt. [_He extends his arm over MR. WACKERBATH._] Rise! [_MR. WACKERBATH rises and drops into chair by table, exhausted._] Depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders. [_MR. WACKERBATH gets up, puffing, and backs to the door._ HORACE. [_Going towards him with concern._] My dear sir, you _must_ believe _I've_ had no share in this! I--I really don't know how to apologise---- MR. WACKERBATH. [_With his eyes on FAKRASH._] Don't mention it, sir, _pray_ don't mention it. I am perfectly satisfied--_perfectly_! HORACE. You _shall_ be, very soon. Fakrash, clear that palace away at once. Sharp, now! MR. WACKERBATH. [_Nervously, to FAKRASH._] No, no, I couldn't think of troubling you. I--I couldn't _wish_ for a more delightful residential mansion, I assure you! HORACE.