EDSTASTON. I must allow myself to say, madam, that your uncle had
better not attempt to kick an English officer downstairs.

PATIOMKIN. You want me to kick you upstairs, eh? You want an
audience of the Empress.

EDSTASTON. I have said nothing about kicking, sir. If it comes to
that, my boots shall speak for me. Her Majesty has signified a
desire to have news of the rebellion in America. I have served
against the rebels; and I am instructed to place myself at the
disposal of her Majesty, and to describe the events of the war to
her as an eye-witness, in a discreet and agreeable manner.

PATIOMKIN. Psha! I know. You think if she once sets eyes on your
face and your uniform your fortune is made. You think that if she
could stand a man like me, with only one eye, and a cross eye at
that, she must fall down at your feet at first sight, eh?

EDSTASTON [shocked and indignant]. I think nothing of the sort;
and I'll trouble you not to repeat it. If I were a Russian
subject and you made such a boast about my queen, I'd strike you
across the face with my sword. [Patiomkin, with a yell of fury,
rushes at him.] Hands off, you swine! [As Patiomkin, towering
over him, attempts to seize him by the throat, Edstaston, who is
a bit of a wrestler, adroitly backheels him. He falls, amazed, on
his back.]

VARINKA [rushing out]. Help! Call the guard! The Englishman is
murdering my uncle! Help! Help!