_COQUETTINA discovered looking at herself in a glass on L. wall. Arm chair with cover on, R. Cupboard, R. Door, L. Barrel against wall, L. Table with cover, C., candle burning on table._
COQ. There, that will do, that’s quite enough my dear. Oh, Coquettina, you’re a flirt, I fear. You naughty, naughty girl to act this way. Ah! you’ll be very sorry, Miss, some day.
I’m sure it’s not my fault. What can one do? I dote on officers, and I’ve now got two. The Captain’s not amiss; a handsome face! And such a uniform! Oh, I love gold lace. His pay’s so small—it’s not a bit of use. But then the General’s such a dear—old goose. He’s rather short and fat, and slightly lazy, His conversation’s small; style, lackadaisy. Still, who for _general_ conversation cares? Ah, stay, I hear him puffing up the stairs.
(_Seats herself hurriedly in chair, L., at back, and pretends to be asleep. Rap heard at door, L., repeated twice. GENERAL BOUNCE puts his head carefully into room_.)
G. B. What, not at home! (_Comes down._) These parlours in the sky Are much like houses in Soho, _so high_. I’m out of breath, and she’s out too, it’s clear, I’ve had my climb for nothing. (_Sees COQUETTINA._) (_Approaching her_) Ah, she’s here! My dainty duck! my lamb, my tender chicken! The cherries on those lips are worth the pickin’. I must take one, though she may fume and flounce, She’ll not object as Mrs. General Bounce.
COQ. your _gout_? A _taste_ of something good and nice, Ah, _stout?_ I see it’s _up_, (_Looking at him meaningly._) You’d better take it down,
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.
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!
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.