Yakov:
You'll regret this, you fat-faced village idiot!
The Mayor:
What! You... you... How dare you!
Yakov:
Keep your dirty hands off me, you misbegotten peasants!
The Mayor:
Tie him up!
Yakov:
The Emperor will tear this stinking village down over your ears, you thieving lard-bucket! Heads will roll here like marbles - yours first, and then this flea-ridden sack of nothing you call the Inspector General!
Inspector General:
Oh! Why, he's insane! Take him away! Take him away!
Yakov:
This isn't the Inspector General! Don't make me laugh! The great Emperor wouldn't appoint a thing like this to a post of such importance! THIS is your Inspector General! Here! His carriage, his manner, his bearing. Gentlemen, take your choice.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:56
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