THE BARON.

If, in return,
Countess, I could your hand but earn !

THE COUNTESS.
I thought as much. This comes, you see,
Of sentiment, and Arcady,
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—”

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.)

a

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 !

a

Verses are public, too, that fly “Cum privilegio”—Zephyri!

(Reads.) “CLITANDER AND DORINE.” Insane! He fancies he's a LA FONTAINE ! “ In early Days, the Gods, we find, Puid casual Visits to Mankind;At least, authentic Records say so In Publius Ovidius Naso." (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 earthly Tours Were mostly matters of Amours. And woe to him whose luckless Flame Impeded that Olympic Game ; Ere he could say an Ave' o'er, They changed him—like a Louis-d'or.” (“' Aves,” and current coinage! 0!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,
There dwelt in a Thessalian Vale,
Of Tales like this the frequent Scene,
A Shepherdess, by name Dorine.
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.
This Shepherdess Dorine adored. .
Implored, ignored, and soared, and poured-
(He's scrawled them here !) We'll sum in brief
His fable on his second leaf.

(Writes.) There, they shall know who 'twas that wrote:“L'ÉTOILE's is but a mock-bird's note.” [Exit.

The ABBÉ (waking).
Implored 's the word, I think. But where,
Where is my paper? Ah ! 'tis there!
Eh ! what?

(Reads.)

THE METAMORPHOSIS.

(not in Ovid.)
“ The Shepherdess Dorine adored

The Shepherd-Boy Clitander;
But Jove himself, Olympus' Lord,
The Shepherdess Dorine adored.

Our Abbês Aid the Pair Implored ;

And changed to Goose and Gander, The Shepherdess Dorine adored

The Shepherd-Boy Clitander!”
L'ÉTOILE,—by all the Muses !

Peste!
He 's off, post-haste, to tell the rest.
No matter. Laugh, Sir Dunce, to-day;
Next time 'twill be my turn to play.