Then I produce my Prize, in truth ;- You pause, you wonder And so we fall to why and how THE BALLAD A-LA-MODE • Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre." SCENE. A Boudoir Louis-Quinze, painted with Cupids shooting at Butterflies. THE COUNTESS. THE BARON (her cousin and suitor) THE COUNTESS (looking up from her work). BARON, you doze. THE BARON (closing his book). I, Madame? No. I wait your order-Stay or Go. THE COUNTESS. Which means, I think, that Go or Stay THE BARON. Excuse me, by your favour graced, THE COUNTESS. Or much the same. How keen you grow! You must be reading MARIVAUX. THE BARON. Nay, 'twas a song of SAINTE-Aulaire. THE COUNTESS. Then read me one. We've time to spare If I can catch the clock-face there, 'Tis barely eight. THE BARON. What shall it be,— A tale of woe, or perfidy? THE COUNTESS. Not woes, I beg. I doubt your woes: THE BARON (reads). "Ah, Phillis! cruel Phillis! (I heard a Shepherd say,) You hold me with your Eyes, and yet "Ah, Colin! foolish Colin! "But when her Eyes she opened, "Ah, Cupid! wanton Cupid! 'Twas ever thus your Way: When Maids would bid you ply your Wings, You find Excuse to stay!" THE COUNTESS. Famous ! He earned whate'er he got :- THE BARON (turning the page). I think not.-No. Unless 'tis this: My fate is far more hard than his ; In fact, your Eyes THE COUNTESS. Now, that's a breach! Your bond is not to make a speech. |