L’Ec. Lip-salve, you gipsy! (Kisses her furiously.)
Ros. Now, shame upon your manners, master soldier, was this a trick taught you by the wars?
L’Ec. Yes, faith! saluting is one of the first lessons in a soldier’s trade, so my dear, tempting, provoking. (Catches her round.)
Ros. Hay, keep your hands off, you have taught me enough of the manual exercise already; but say now, were you indeed so great a hero in the battle as you told my lady?
L’Ec. Pshaw! I didn’t tell her half, my modesty forbade, but for thee, my pretty Rosabelle—
Ros. Ay, with me, I’m certain your modesty will be no obstacle.
L’Ec. None, for while I gaze upon the face of an angel, the devil himself can’t put me out of countenance.
DUETTO.—Rosabelle and L’Eclair.
Ros. Tell, soldier, tell! and mark you tell me truly,
How oft in battle have you slain a foe?