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THE SONG OUT OF SEASON.
"Point de culte sans mystère."
SCENE.-A Corridor in a Château, with Busts and Venice chandeliers.
M. L'ÉTOILE (carrying a Rose).
HIS is the place. MUTINE said here.
"Through the Mancini room, and near
The fifth Venetian chandelier.
The fifth ?-She knew there were but four ;-
Tra-la, tra-la! If BIJOU wake,
She'll bark, no doubt, and spoil my shake!
I'll tap, I think. One can't mistake;
This surely is the door.
"When Jove, the Skies' Director,
First saw you sleep of yore,
He cried aloud for Nectar,
"The Nectar quickly pour,—
(No sound. I'll tap once more.)
"Then came the Sire Apollo,
He past you where you lay; 'Come, Dian, rise and follow The dappled Hart to slay,The rapid Hart to slay.""
(A rustling within.)
(Coquette! She heard before.)
"And urchin Cupid after
(Now comes the last. 'Tis scarcely worse, I think, than Monsieur l'ABBÉ's verse.)
"So waken, waken, waken,
O You, whom we adore!
(That merits an encore!)
"So waken, waken, waken!
O YOU whom we adore!"
(An energetic Voice.)
'Tis thou, ANTOINE? Ah, Addle-pate!
A thousand times!
But wait, but wait,
M. L'ÉTOILE (stupefied).
Just Skies! What hideous roar !— What lungs! The infamous Soubrette!
This is a turn I sha'nt forget:
To make me sing my chansonnette
And yet, and yet,-it can't be she.
(A second VOICE.)
IT WAS THE ABBÉ TI-RI-LI!
(In a mocking falsetto.) "Where Gods can be mistaken, Mere Poets must be more,—
BAD POETS must be more."
THE CAP THAT FITS.
"Qui sème épines n'aille déchaux."
SCENE. A Salon with blue and white Panels. Outside, Persons pass and re-pass upon a Terrace.
Nay, I defer to you. In truth,
Graceful? You think it? What, with hands
And how she stands