(_Points to door._) GEN. B. Now what a tease you are! Come, do not frown. Don’t, Coquettina, of my love make light. You leant upon my arm quite hard last night. Say you’ll be mine, come, Coquettina, do! I am a single man. COQ. You’re big enough for two. I’ve only one objection. GEN. B. What is that? Pray _lean_ on me for life. COQ. _Lean!_ why, you’re _fat_! GEN. B. Call me not lean, but say I’m buxom, plump. I am no scare-crow, made to run and jump. To tell the _truth_, I like to take my ease, I’m not a _skipper_ with a load of (_f_) “_lees_.” Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt To less than sixty inches round the belt! COQ. You can’t help that, _’tis you_. GEN. B. Well then, suppose My _tissue is_ inclined to _adipose_. You couldn’t _add a pose_ with all that tissue. ’Twould be a _poser_ if I were to kiss you. COQ. Why what’s _possest_ the man? I’d like to see you! GEN. B. Well, so you shall. Here goes! (_He attempts to chase her around stage, she easily eludes him. Knock heard at door._) COQ. Oh, dear, oh, dear! Mamma’s come back! Quick, General, get in here. (_pushes him into cupboard, R. Business, he not liking to go in. Rap again._) Meet me beneath the haunted tree to-morrow. GEN. B. Adieu! COQ. Pray go! GEN. B. This parting’s such sweet sorrow. (_He goes into cupboard, crush of broken glass heard. He puts his head out again._) I’ve sat upon your glasses! COQ. Take it easy. My ab_sence_ won’t be long. GEN. B. (_Sniffs about cupboard._) Your _scents_ are cheesy. (_Exit into cupboard. She runs to door and opens it. Enter CAPT. POUNCE. She curtseys, and looks down demurely. He comes front, twirling his moustache._) CAPT. P. So this is where you live, child, is it, weally? You’re up amongst the clouds here. COQ. Yes, Sir, nearly. CAPT. P. (_Gallantly_) For such a chewub quite a pwoper place. (_Aside._) Upon my word, a vewy pwetty face! (_Looks out of window at R._) And what a view! All twees and sheep in flocks, And wolling waves awound those wugged wocks. (_She is standing by him as he speaks the last words. He puts arm round her waist._) COQ. _That’s_ not a “wugged wock.” Don’t let it trouble you, But have you such a thing as a spare W? CAPT. T. Oh, weally, pon my life, you’re vewy pwetty. COQ. I thank you kindly, Sir. CAPT. P. And weally witty. Yes. If I’d got some place to which to cawwy you, Upon my word I’d weally like to mawwy you. COQ. (_Aside_) The darling! He’s a man a girl can love.