"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!”

"Si vieillesse pouvait !—"

In a high Voltaire Chair sits a white-haired old Gentleman.

SCENE.-A small neat Room.

MONSIEUR VIEUXBOIS.

DAY

M. VIEUXBOIS (turning querulously).
AY of 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!

M. VIEUXBOIS.

Where have you been?

BABETTE.

BABETTE.

Why M'sieu' knows :-

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' !
And then the sky so blue !—so blue !
And when I dropped my immortelle,
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 ;—
Sing me your Norman chansonnette.

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?”

M. VIEUXBOIS (murmuring).

Ah, PAUL!...old PAUL !...EULALIE too!
And ROSE...And O! "the sky so blue !"

BABETTE (sings).

"One had my Mother's eyes,
Wistful and mild;

One had my Father's face;
One was a Child:

All of them bent to me,—
Bent down and smiled!"

(He is asleep!)

M. VIEUXBOIS (almost inaudibly).

"How I forget!"

"I am so old !"..."Good-night, BABETTE !"

EPILOGUE.

HEIGHO! how chill the evenings get!

Good-night, NINON!-good-night, NINETTE! Your little Play is played and finished;— Go back, then, to your Cabinet !

LOYAL, L'ÉTOILE ! no more to-day!
Alas! they heed not what we say :

They smile with ardour undiminished ;

But we, we are not always gay!