"And you would have me to go with you to the camp—ha! ha! where I should be scared by the aspect of your bareknee'd Scots."
"Nay, señora, I had no such intention. The camp is not the place for one so fair—so tender. Women should never be there. Old Anacreon, who describes female beauty as being more powerful than fire or steel, was convinced of the impropriety of women going to war, as they were meant only for a soft and luxurious life."
"How!" exclaimed my actress, after the manner of Medea, in the tragedy of Euripides; "dost thou not know that I would rather stand thrice in the ranks of war, than once endure the pains of childbirth?"
Then, blushing with the most charming modesty at the vehemence she had betrayed, she said—
"Did you not hear some one laughing?"
"I heard something behind the wainscot, again."
"'Tis a rat scratching—the place is full of those animals; but now, señor, you must go, for I expect another visitor."
"A visitor," said I, as my old jealousy of the Hausmeister returned; "I vow to you I will not go; for if this visitor is a man I will run him through the brisket."
"Now, señor, do retire if you please; why linger?"
"Because I am so fond of speaking to pretty women."