THE SPANISH VALET AND THE WAITING

MAID.

A DUOLOGUE, FROM "THE WONDER."

Enter LISSARDO, L.

LISSAR. Was ever man so tormented? I saw that little gipsy, Flora, in close confab with Lazat, the miller's manonly once let me lay hold of him, I'll-by-the-by, this a very pretty ring my lady gave me-methinks a diamond is a vast addition to the finger of a gentleman. Egad, I have a pretty hand, it is very white and well-shaped-faith, I never noticed it so much before-it becomes a diamond ring as well as the first Don's in Andalusia.

FLORA. (Without, calling.) Lissardo! Lissardo!

LISSAR. Oh, the little minx-there she is calling for me; but I'll not answer.

Enter FLORA, R.

FLORA. Lissardo! Lissardo! I say are the fellow's dumb-ha! what do I see? a diamond ring—(aside) how the deuce did he get that? (Aloud.) You have got a very pretty ring there, Lissardo.

LISSAR. Um, the trifle's pretty enough; but the lady who gave it me is as beautiful as an angel, I assure you? (Struts about and gives himself airs.)

FLORA. (Aside.) I can't bear this-the lady! (Aloud.) What lady, pray?

LISSAR. There's a question to ask a gentleman.

FLORA. A gentleman indeed! why the fellow's spoil'dis this your love for me, you brute?

LISSAR. Don't talk to me about love-didn't I catch you in close conversation with Lazat, the miller's man?

FLORA. There was no harm in that, I was only

LISSAR. You were only-you're a base, ungrateful woman, and I've done with you-there, madam, you can take that

tobacco stopper you gave me some time back, and stop your impertinent mouth with it.

FLORA. Indeed, sir! I believe I can keep tally with you in that respect; there, sir, there's the pretty little pincushion you gave me-take it. (Throws it at him.)

LISSAR. There's another little trifle-there, madam— (gives a pocket-book) it will serve you to write down an account of your false love. (Throws it at her.)

FLORA Indeed, sir. (Aside.) The wretch so provokes me! (Runs off, and returns with an apron full of letters.) There, sir― there you good-for-nothing brute-here's a bundle of your false scrawls for you, take them. (Pelts him with the letters, he running away, and she after him.)

LISSAR. I believe, madam, I can return the compliment. (Taking out a packet and pelting her.) And here's another precious article, take it. (Lifts his stick and about to beat her.) FLORA. (Throws herself into his arms.) Beat me now, cruel Lissardo, do.

LISSAR. No, no!

Air.

LISSAR. Dear Flora, what would you be at?

I don't wish to quarrel with you;

You're in love with the miller, Lazat;

If I meet him I'll cause him to rue.

The first time I set eyes on him, I'll give him a taste of as sharp a two-edged stiletto as any in all Madrid; and if he comes again to poach on my manor, I'll duck him in his own mill-pond, and he shall soon learn the difference between feeding on fish and feeding fish.

FLORA. If this is the way you try to make yourself agreeable, I shall, in future, take care to walk in some other path. (Angrily.) You are enough to provoke a saint-so you are! I've got anger enough from mother about you already; but never mind, it's the last time we shall ever meet -heigho! it's very provoking though-and I'm sure I didn't deserve this from you-oh! dear, oh! (Crying.)

LISSAR. I can't stand this-come, come, Flora dear.

FLORA.

You promise, but promise in vain,

I love not to trifle like you;

Your wish is to quarrel, that's plain,

But I can be constant and true.

Well, good by, Lissardo-we part friends, I hope. (Going.) LISSAR. Stop, stop, Flora! a word with you, before you

go.

FLORA. It must be only one word then, for I have not time to hear another.

LISSAR. But suppose that one should prove agreeable— would you not then stop to hear another?

FLORA. Perhaps, in that case— —(hesitating.) But what is

the word?

LISSAR. A very short monosyllable, containing only four letters-this little word has been the cause of more quarrels, more misery, and more happiness, than all the words in the English language put together-what do you think of L, O, V, E?

FLORA. Oh! then I'm going in earnest.

LISSAR. (Detaining her.) What! without hearing the other three?

FLORA. Three words! what can they be?

LISSAR. A gold ring! (Going.) Now I'm in a hurry. FLORA. (Detaining him.) Well, but, Lissardo, where can you be going? I can't think.

LISSAR. Only to your father-have I your leave?

FLORA. But are you really in earnest, indeed, and in truth? and will you tell him the three words?

LISSAR. Certainly not-(FLORA pouts)—that is-without you desire it; and if you have no objections, I shall add a few more words about a church.

FLORA. Charming!

LISSAR. And a clerk to publish the banns of marriage. FLORA. Delightful!

LISSAR. (Archly.) And we shall be as happy as the day is long-and then you know we shall have—

Воти.

Air.

No more sighing, no more sorrow ;
Let us happy pass the time;
To-day we'll sing, and dance to-morrow,
And the bells shall merry chime.

(Bells chime.)

Hark! hark! the bells so well keep time
I love to hear their merry chime,
The merry chime, the merry, merry chime.

THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS.

THE Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop and abbot, and prior were there;

Many a monk, and many a friar,

Many a knight, and many a squire,

With a great many more of lesser de. ree,—

In sooth a goodly company;

BARHAM.

And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee.
Never, I ween,

Was a prouder seen,

Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams,

Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims!

In and out

Through the motley rout,

That little Jackdaw kept hopping about;

Here and there

Like a dog in a fair,

Over comfits and cates,

And dishes and plates,

Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall,
Mitre and crosier! he hopp'd upon all!
With saucy air,

He perch'd on the chair

Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat;

And he peer'd in the face
Of his Lordship's Grace,

With a satisfied look, as if he would say,
"We two are the greatest folks here to-day!"
And the priests, with awe,

As such freaks they saw,

Said, "The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw!'

The feast was over, the board was clear'd,
The flawns and the custards had all disappeared,
And six little singing-boys-dear little souls!
In nice clean faces, and nice white stoles,
Came, in order due,

Two by two,

Marching that grand refectory through!
A nice little boy held a golden ewer,
Emboss'd and fill'd with water, as pure

As any that flows between Rheims and Namur,
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch
In a fine golden hand-basin made to match.
Two nice little boys, rather more grown,
Carried lavender-water, and eau de Cologne ;
And a nice little boy, had a nice cake of soap,
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope.
One little boy more

A napkin bore,

Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink,
And a Cardinal's hat mark'd in "permanent ink."

The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight
Of these nice little boys dress'd all in white:
From his finger he draws

His costly turquoise;

And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws,
Deposits it straight

By the side of his plate;

While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; Till, when nobody's dreaming of any such thing, That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring!