“Yes, joy and peace, and peace and joy, and joy and peace together.” Here the stranger bowed lower than ever.
“Well—well—well—well—well!”
“Yes, joy and peace I think—I said with all my heart.” He nearly laid his nose upon the doctor’s instep. And the new comer rather thought this last disguise was perfect, and panted for the moment when he and his Rosina should sweetest converse hold.
“And pray, sir, who are you?”
“I’m Don Alonzo—and I am of music a professor, and I am, as well, dear sir, a pupil of Basilio’s—I mean good Don Basilio’s. Poor man, he’s very ill, so in his stead—”
“What, very ill—then I must run and see him.”
“No, no, pray don’t run and see him, ’tis no dangerous illness.”
“Hu—u—u—um. Come, let’s go.”
“But, sir!”
“Hu—u—u—m.”