Or a younger grace shall please; Till the coming of the crows' feet, And the backward turn of beaux' feet, 'Belle Marquise !'. Till your frothed-out life's commotion Settles down to Ennui's ocean, Or a dainty sham devotion, 'Belle Marquise !' No: we neither like nor love you, Lesser lights we place above you, We have passed from Philosophe-dom Without malice whatsoever,- Just one little thought, Marquise! Wittier perhaps than any other, You were neither Wife nor Mother, 'Belle Marquise!' If I were you, when ladies at the play, sir, FRANK. If I were you, when persons I affected, Wait for three hours to take me down to Kew, I would, at least, pretend I recollected, If I were you! NELLIE. If I were you, when ladies are so lavish, Sir, as to keep me every waltz but two, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish, If I were you! FRANK. If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer Whiff of the best, the mildest honey-dew, I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer, If I were you! NELLIE. If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter, FRANK. No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter, If I were you! NELLIE. Really! You would? Why, Frank, you're quite de lightful, Hot as Othello, and as black of hue; Borrow my fan. I would not look so frightful, If I were you. It is the cause. FRANK. I mean your chaperon is Bringing some well-curled juvenile. Adieu! I shall retire. I'd spare that poor Adonis, If I were you! NELLIE. Go, if you will. At once! And by express, sir! - or Peru? Go. I should leave inquirers my address, sir, No, FRANK. - I remain. To stay and fight a duel Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to do Ah, you are strong, I would not then be cruel, If I were you! NELLIE. One does not like one's feelings to be doubted, FRANK. One does not like one's friends to misconstrue, NELLIE. If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted? FRANK. I should admit that I was piqué, too. NELLIE. Ask me to dance. I'd say no more about it, -- If I were you! [Waltz-Exeunt.] SCENE. 'GOOD NIGHT, BABETTE!' 'Si vieillesse pouvait ! —' A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman. Day of M. VIEUXBOIS (turning querulously) my life! Where can she get? Babette! I say! Babette! Babette !! BABETTE (entering hurriedly) Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks So loud he won't be well for weeks! April! Ville-d'Avray!- Ma'am'selle Rose! M. VIEUXBOIS Ah! I am old, - and I forget. Was the place growing green, Babette? BABETTE But of a greenness !—yes, M'sieu'! How the birds sang! (Lifting her apron to her eyes.) This poor Ma'am'selle! M. VIEUXBOIS You're a good girl, Babette, but she, She was an Angel, verily. Sometimes I think I see her yet Stand smiling by the cabinet; And once, I know, she peeped and laughed Betwixt the curtains Where's the draught? (She gives him a cup.) Now I shall sleep, I think, Babette;— M. VIEUXBOIS (drowsily) 'She was an Angel'—' Once she laughed'. What, was I dreaming? Where's the draught? BABETTE (showing the empty cup) The draught, M'sieu'? M. VIEUXBOIS 'How I forget!' 'I am so old!' But sing, Babette ! BABETTE (sings) 'One was the Friend I left Stark in the Snow; One was the Wife that died Long, long ago; One was the Love I lost. How could she know?' |