"But when her Eyes she opened, She found the Shepherd had not stirred — 'Because the Light was gone!' 66 Ah, Cupid! wanton Cupid! 'Twas ever thus your Way: When Maids would bid you ply your Wings, You find Excuse to stay!" THE COUNTESS. Famous ! He earned whate'er he got: THE BARON (turning the page). I think not. - No. Unless 'tis this: My fate is far more hard than his ; In fact, your Eyes THE COUNTESS. Now, that's a breach! Your bond is And we must start so call JUSTINE. I know exactly what you mean ! Give me your arm THE BARON. If, in return, Countess, I could your hand but earn! THE COUNtess. I thought as much. This comes, you see, Where vows are hung on every tree. ... THE BARON (offering his arm, with a low bow). And no one dreams. of PERFIDY. THE METAMORPHOSIS. "On s'enrichit quand on dort." SCENE. A high stone Seat in an Alley of clipped Lime-trees. THE ABBÉ TIRILI. MONSIEUR L'ÉTOILE. THE ABBÉ (writing). HIS shepherdess Dorine adored "THIS What rhyme is next? Implored?-ignored? Poured?-soared?-afford? That facile Dunce, L'ÉTOILE, Would cap the line at once. "Twill come in time. Meanwhile, suppose We take a meditative doze. (Sleeps. By-and-by his paper falls.) M. L'ÉTOILE (approaching from the back). Some one before me. What! 'tis you, Monsieur the Scholar? Sleeping too! (Picks up the fluttering paper.) More "Tales," of course. One can't refuse To chase so fugitive a Muse! Verses are public, too, that fly "Cum privilegio"- Zephyri! (Reads.) Insane! · "CLITANDER AND DORINE." (Three names for one. This passes all. 'Tis "furiously" classical !) "No doubt their Purpose oft would be Some 'Nodus dignus Vindice'; 'On dit,' not less, these earthward Tours Were mainly Matters of Amours. And Woe to him whose luckless Flame Ere he could say an Ave' o'er, They changed him- like a Louis-d'or." ("Aves," and current coinage! O!O shade of NICHOLAS BOILEAU!) "Bird, Beast, or River he became : With Women it was much the same. In Ovid Case to Case succeeds; But Names the Reader never reads." (That is, Monsieur the Abbé feels His quantities are out at heels!) "Suffices that, for this our Tale, Trim Waist, ripe Lips, bright Eyes, had she; In short, the whole Artillery. Her Beauty made some local Stir; Men marked it. So did Jupiter. His fable on his second leaf. (Writes.) We'll sum in brief There, they shall know who 'twas that wrote: "L'ÉTOILE'S is but a mock-bird's note." THE ABBÉ (waking). [Exit. Implored's the word, I think. But where, - Eh! what? (Reads.) THE METAMORPHOSIS. (not in Ovid.) "The Shepherdess Dorine adored |