"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!"

"Si vieillesse pouvait !-"

SCENE.-A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair

sits a white-haired old Gentleman.

MONSIEUR VIEUXBOIS.

DAY
ᎠᏎ

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!

Where have

you

M. VIEUXBOIS.

been?

ВАВЕТТЕ.

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.

BABETTE (sings).

"Once at the Angelus

(Ere I was dead),

Angels all glorious

Came to my Bed ;-
Angels in blue and white

Crowned on the Head."

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 !

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.

H

EIGHO! 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!