What! cannot I prevail with you then? said I, interrupting him. Leave off these long discourses which tend to nothing but to split my head to pieces, and to detain me from the place where my business lies. Shave me, I say, or be gone; with that I started up in a huff, stamping my foot against the ground.
When he saw I was angry in earnest; Sir, said he, do not be angry, we are going to begin soon. He washed my head, and fell a shaving me; but he had not given me four sweeps of his razor, when he stopped, saying, Sir, you are hasty, you should avoid these transports that come only from the devil. Besides, my merit speaks that you ought to have some more consideration for me, with respect to my age, my knowledge, and my shining virtues.
Go on and shave me, said I, interrupting him again, and do not speak. That is to say, replies he, you have some urgent business to go about; I will lay you a wager I guess right. Why, I told you so these two hours, said I, you ought to have done before now. Moderate your passion, replied he, perhaps you have not maturely weighed what you are going about: when things are done precipitately, they are generally repented of. I wish you would tell me what mighty business this is you are so earnest upon: I would tell you my opinion of it: besides, you have time enough, since your appointment is not till noon, and it wants three hours of that yet. I do not mind that, said I; persons of honour, and of their word, are rather before their time than after. But I forget that, in amusing myself by reasoning with you, I give into the faults of you prattling barbers: have done, have done, shave me.
The more haste I was in, the less haste he made: he laid down the razor, and took up his astrolabe; this done, he even laid down the astrolabe, and took up his razor again. The barber quitted his razor again, and took up his astrolabe, a second time; and so left me, half shaved, to go and see precisely what o’clock it was. Back he came, and then, Sir, said he, I knew I was not mistaken, it wants three hours of noon, I am sure of it, or else all the rules of astronomy are false. Just Heaven! cried I, my patience is at an end, I can forbear no longer. You cursed barber, you barber of mischief, I do not know what holds me from falling upon you,