Rosa. [Not recollecting him.] Pray, sir, if I may—
Lep. Heigho! Behold de gentilhomme dat love a you—throw your arms round my neck like solitaire, and give me kiss, my charming fair.
Rosa. Trifling—Impertinent!
Lep. Impertinent—Aha! [Rises in a Passion.] Do you know who you talk to, mademoiselle?—Impertinent!—You are great lady, indeed, but I vas just now, (little as you may tink of me) taken for a colonel, by my Lady de Bull, though, perhaps, not so great as you, but, by gar, she vas tree times as big—Impertinent!—See, I vill be revenge—may I never set a stitch, but I vill have satisfaction—I am enragé!
Enter Nannette.
You, Nannette, stand out of my valk, or I may put my feet upon you.
Nan. Oh, lud, what's the matter?
Rosa. Nannette, step with me into my chamber.
[Exit.
Lep. Dere you may stay in your chamber—Aha! since you scorn me, Madame Runavay, I vill deliver you up to de Lady Abbess.