Chapter 12

drinking, the latter half-intoxicated._

_Gas._ Adod! a very masterpiece of the military art? Why this Turenne must be a famous captain. I'll drink his health, (_drinks_) Odso! where did we leave the enemy? Oh! the Bavarians were just driven across the Neckar, and had destroyed the bridge. Well, and then what did our troops?

_L'Ecl._ They clashed after them thro' the river like a pack of otters.

_Gasp._ Hold; you said just now the river wasn't fordable.

_L'Ecl._ Did I? Pshaw, I only meant, it wasn't fordable to the enemy: no, poor devils! they couldn't ford it certainly; but as to our hussars: whew! such fellows as they would _get_ thro' any thing, were it ever so deep to the bottom. (_takes the flask from Gaspard and drinks_).

_Gasp._ O! the rare hussars! Now this is a conversation just to my heart's content. I dearly love to hear of battles and sieges. The household are all retired to rest, and my room is private; so here we may sit peaceably, and talk about war for the remainder of the night.

_L'Ec._ Bravo! agreed: we'll make a night of it; but harkye, is not this room of yours built in a queer sort of a circular shape?

_Gasp._ No; a most perfect square.

_L'Ec._ Well, I never studied mathematics; but, for a perfect square, methinks it has the oddest trick of turning round with its company I ever witnessed.

Enter _Rosabelle_.

_Ros._ Here's a display of profligacy! So, gentlemen, are these your morals? Methinks you place a special example before the household; drinking and carousing thus after midnight, when all decent persons ought to be at rest within their beds.

_Gasp._ Marry now, my malapert lady! How comes it you are found abroad at these wild hours?

_Ros._ I have always important motives for my conduct. A strange female waits at the castle-gate, who clamors for admittance; she seems in deep distress, refuses to accept denial or excuse, and demands to speak with the person of first consequence in the family. Now, Mr. Gaspard, as you happen to be steward--

_Gasp._ (_rises pompously_) I am of course the personage required. You say a female?

_Ros._ Yes; she waits for you in heavy trouble at the gate.

_Gasp._ I fly. Gallantry invites, and I obey the call. Good Mr. L'Eclair, I cast myself upon your courtesy for this abrupt departure:

'Tis woman tempts from friendship, war, and wine-- My fault is human--my excuse divine! [_Exit._

_Ros._ In sooth, the old gentleman has not forgotten his manners in his cups; but as to you, sir, (_to L'Eclair_) how stupidly you sit--have you nothing to say for yourself?

_L'Ec._ (_rising and reeling towards her_). Much, very much-- love--midnight--all snug and private.

_Ros._ Mercy O me! the wretch is certainly intoxicated; how wickedly his eyes begin to twinkle. Why, Scapegrace, I'm sure you're not sober.

_L'Ec._ Don't say so, pray don't, you wound my delicacy. O! Rosabelle! beautiful but misjudging Rosabelle! I am unfortunate, but not criminal. This morning I beheld only one Rosabelle, and yet I was undone; now I seem to behold two Rosabelles; ergo, I either see double, or am doubly undone. There's logic for you. Now, could a man who wasn't sober, talk logic? only answer me that.

_Ros._ What shall I do with him? If I leave him here, he'll drink himself into a fever. I must e'en coax him. L'Eclair, come, come, my dear L'Eclair, let me prevail upon you to go to bed; I'm going to bed myself.

_L'Ec._ O! fy, that's too broad; I blush for you; would you delude my innocence?

_Ros._ The profligate monster! I delude!

_L'Ec._ Well, I yield to fate: stars! veil your chaste heads, and thou. O! little candle, hide thy wick! behold the lamb submitting to the sacrifice. (_Reels to embrace her._)

_Ros._ Why, you heathen monster! how dare you talk to me about lambs and sacrifices? ah! if you stir another step, I'll alarm the family! I can scream, sir!

_L'Ec._ I know you can; but pray, don't, somebody might hear you, and that would be very disappointing, recollect I have a character to lose.

_Ros._ And have not I a character too, Sir?

_L'Ec._ Hush! hush! Let's drops the subject.

_Ros._ How now, sirrah! have you any thing to say against my character?

_L'Ec._ Oh! no, I never speak ill of the dead.

_Ros._ Why, you vile insinuating, but I shall preserve my temper though you have lost your manners: well, assuredly of all objects in creation, the most pitiable is a man in liquor.

_L'Ec._ There's an exception--a man in love.

DUETT.--_Rosabelle and L'Eclair._

_Ros._ The precept of Bacchus to man proves a curse, The head it confounds, and the heart it bewitches.

_L'Ec._ I'm sure, the example of Cupid is worse, For he walks abroad without shirt, drawers, or breeches.

_Ros._ Pshaw! Cupid, you dolt, has rich garments enough.

_L'Ec._ Nay, his wardrobe's confin'd to a plain suit of buff.

_Ros._ 'Twas Bacchus taught men to drown reason in cans.

_L'Ec._ 'Twas Cupid taught ladies the first use of fans.

_Ros._ How diff'rent the garland, their votaries twine,-- How genteel is the myrtle--how vulgar the vine!

_L'Ec._ Of myrtle or vine I pretend not to know, But a fig-leaf I think would be most apropos: [_Exeunt._