“Order him away, Miss Burney,” cried she. “It is your room: order him away from the door.”
“Name it, ma’am, name it!” exclaimed he; “name but the chosen nation!”
And then, fixing her with the most provoking eyes, “Est-ce la Danemarc?” he cried.
She coloured violently, and quite angry with him, called out, “Mr. Turbulent, how can you be such a fool!” And now I found.. . the prince royal of Denmark was in his meaning, and in her understanding!
He bowed to the ground, in gratitude for the term “fool,” but added with pretended Submission to her will, “Very well, ma’am, s’il ne faut lire que les comédies Danoises.”
“Do let me go!” cried she, seriously; and then he made way, with a profound bow as she passed, saying, “Very well, ma’am, ‘La Coquette,’ then? your royal highness chooses ‘La Coquette corrigée?’”
“Corrigée? That never was done!” cried she, with all her sweet good-humour, the moment she got out—and off she ran, like lightning, to the queen’s apartments.
What say you to Mr. Turbulent now?
For my part, I was greatly surprised. I had not imagined any man, but the king or Prince of Wales, had ever ventured at a badinage of this sort with any of the princesses; nor do I suppose any other man ever did. Mr. Turbulent is so great a favourite with all the royal family that he safely ventures upon whatever he pleases, and doubtless they find, in his courage and his rhodomontading, a novelty extremely amusing to them.