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V I C T O I R E.
It is true; but of all the Counts you are the most amiable.
T H E L O R D.
I was not expecting that compliment.
V I C T O I R E.
Anyway, I am counting on us being back for the rehearsal at eleven o'clock.
T H E L O R D.
Will you be there? It is only for a hare that is tormenting this good man.
V I C T O R E.
What, for a hare? Ah! I am staying here.
T H E L O R D.
Stay, Ladies. Master Simon, lead the way.
M. S I M O N, to his wife.
See for yourself, you, that cursed Barber. Ah! by Heaven, yes, he shall have my daughter.
Madame S I M O N, to her daughter.
Stay there, and do not come out.
The mother stays a moment to watch The Lord leave.
T H E L O R D, to the young ladies.
Look at this pretty child; that is worth a hundred times more than all your dancers.
V I C T O I R E.
She is not bad.
T H E L O R D.
Not bad! This child is priceless.
V I C T O I R E.
Priceless! That is respectable.
T H E L O R D.
Come, my dear Simon. Ladies, will you allow me?
V I C T O I R E.
Ah! My Lord, everything is allowed to you.
T H E L O R D.
Put on your cap, Master Simon, put on your cap.
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