Puslapio vaizdai

He, too, can ride and fence and write
Sonnets and madrigals, yet fight
No worse for that-

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On this old turquoise reliquaire,

My great-great Grandmother's !!— (After a pause.)

I feel so sad.



I too. But why?


Alas, I know not!

NINETTE (with a sigh).

Nor do I.

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BABETTE (entering hurriedly).

Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks

So loud, he won't be well for weeks!

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Ah! I am old,—and I forget.

Was the place growing green, 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!


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),

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"She was an Angel".. "Once she laughed "

What, was I dreaming?

Where's the draught?

BABETTE (showing the empty cup).

The draught, M'sieu'?

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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!"

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