March 1.—-With all the various humours in which I had already seen Mr. Turbulent, he gave me this evening a surprise, by his behaviour to one of the princesses, nearly the same that I had experienced from him myself. The Princess Augusta came, during coffee, for a knotting shuttle of the queen’s. While she was speaking to me, he stood behind and exclaimed, a demi voix, as if to himself, “Comme elle est jolie ce soir, son Altesse Royale!” And then, seeing her blush extremely, he clasped his hands, in high pretended confusion, and hiding his head, called Out, “Que ferai-je? The princess has heard me!”
“Pray, Mr. Turbulent,” cried she, hastily, “what play are you to read to-night?”
“You shall choose, ma’am; either ‘La Coquette corrigée,’ or—” [he named another I have forgotten.]
“O no!” cried she, “that last is shocking! don’t let me hear that!”
“I understand you, ma’am. You fix, then, upon ‘La Coquette?’ ‘La Coquette’ is your royal highness’s taste?”
“No, indeed, I am sure I did not say that.”
“Yes, ma’am, by implication. And certainly, therefore, I will read it, to please your royal highness!”
“No, pray don’t; for I like none of them.”
“None of them, ma’am?”
“No, none;—no French plays at all!” And away she was running, with a droll air, that acknowledged she had said something to provoke him.