Gasp. Hey! madcap, have we dances toward?
Ros. Ay! upon the terrace presently, all the world will assemble there; the lady Geraldine and myself for beauty; and then for rank, we shall have the count himself, and the baron, and the chevalier, and—
Gasp. Out upon you, magpie; would you delude the old man with fables? his lordship, the count, among revellers! truly a pleasant jest; I have been his watchful servant these twenty years, and never knew him to abide the sight or sound of pleasures.
Ros. Then I can acquaint you, he proposes on this day to regale both his eyes and his ears with a novelty; I heard him promise lady Geraldine to join the pastimes on the terrace.
Gasp. Oh! the blest tidings: damsel, thy tongue has made a boy of me again.
Ros. Now charity forefend, for so should I bring thee to thy second childhood.
Gasp. Ah! would you fleer me! his lordship among revellers! oh! the blest prodigy! well, well, I give no promise, mark; but should a certain damsel lack a partner, adod. I know not—sixty-live shows with an ill-grace in a rigadoon, but for a minuet: well, well, St. Vitus strengthen me, and I accept thy challenge. Exit.
Ros. Go thy ways, thou antique gallantry; thy pledge shall never be endangered by my claim; I’m for a brisker partner in every dance through life, I promise thee.
AIR.—Rosabelle.
On the banks of the Rhine, at the sun-setting hour,