Adela. Why ay, it was rather impertinent for a common soldier to attempt to bring down a man of fashion.
LaRole. Oui—it is dam impertinent, mai par example, de littel bullet of von common soldat, he sometime kill von great general.
Pendragon. Pray, ma'am, will you permit me to ask, when you arrived from England, and what family has the honour to boast of so beautiful a representative?
Adela. Sir, I am not of England, I stand on my native soil.
Pendragon. Oh.
Adela. And much as I esteem English women for their many amiable qualities, I hope that worth and virtue are not wholly centered in that country.
Pendragon. Why, 'pon my soul, ma'am, though it is not fashionable this year to be prejudiced, yet were I to admit that I saw any beauty or elegance in America, my Bond-Street friends would cut me—split me!
Adela. I cannot admire their candour. Merit is the exclusive property of no country, and to form a just estimate of our own advantages, we should be ever prepared to admit the advantages possessed by others.
Enter a Soldier.
Soldier. We have surprised and made captive the celebrated Indian chief, who fought so desperately against us.