“And I will. See how do I manage? oh, thank you, thank you—no, that is—but I’d rather not—you’re very, very humble servant, sir. Ah, ah, ah!”
“Brava, that will do.”
“And I must hold my head down, like a goose!”
“And your lips pursed up.”
“Like an old maid. Oh! sir, I am ashamed. I’d rather not—your humble servant, sir! Ah, ah, ah!”
“Come, let us go.”
“Yes, oh, I shall die of laughing before we get there. Sir, your most obedient—ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!”
CHAPTER III.
Don Pasquale got himself up in such style for the reception of his bride that his own servants did not know him. In fact he hardly knew himself, and felt rather taller. But he was not comfortable, and indeed as he gave his servants orders to admit none but the doctor and the person who might be with him, he blushed rather red, which last word is superfluous, for no don in the world could blush blue! Well, the servants departed; he danced again, and then growing tired he was fatigued with waiting.