RODOLPHE:
Here I am standing.
ZEPHERINA:
Ah. Not like that. Your actions must be soft, smooth.
RODOLPHE: But my uniform is so tight that I cannot move my arms except to exercise.
ZEPHERINA: Exercise! How dreadful! Take off your shirt and put on my shawl in its place.
RODOLPHE:
Your shawl? What's this signify, little witch?
ZEPHERINA:
Obey!
RODOLPHE:
Why look at that! She talks to me like my general.
ZEPHERINA:
I am that, your general. You belong to us.
RODOLPHE:
Me! I am not engaged. I didn't sign my enlistment.
ZEPHERINA:
Dance with me. Hold the end of this shawl. Come on—turn.