M. VIEUXBOIS Where have you been? 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'! (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? A Dialogue from Plato BABETTE (showing the empty cup) The draught, M'sieu"? 1773 A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO Le temps le mieux employé est celui qu'on perd.-CLAUDE TILLIER I'D "read" three hours. Both notes and text Were fast a mist becoming; . In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed, Then out. The casement's leafage sways, And, parted light, discloses Miss Di., with hat and book,—a maze Of muslin mixed with roses. "You're reading Greek?" "I am—and you?" "O, mine's a mere romancer!" "So Plato is." "Then read him-do; And I'll read mine for answer." I read: "My Plato (Plato, too That wisdom thus should harden!) She smiled. "My book in turn avers "But hear, the next's in stronger style: The Cynic School asserted That two red lips which part and smile She smiled once more. "My book, I find, Then I: "Why not? 'Ephesian law, She blushed, this time. "If Plato's page No wiser precept teaches, Then I'd renounce that doubtful sage, And walk to Burnham Beeches." "Agreed," I said. "For Socrates (I find he too is talking) Thinks Learning can't remain at ease When Beauty goes a-walking." The Ladies of St. James's 1775 She read no more. I leapt the sill: Austin Dobson [1840 THE LADIES OF ST. JAMES'S A PROPER NEW BALLAD OF THE COUNTRY AND THE TOWN Phyllida amo ante alias.-VIRGIL THE ladies of St. James's Go swinging to the play; Their footmen run before them, With a "Stand by! Clear the way!" But Phyllida, my Phyllida!. She takes her buckled shoon, When we go out a-courting The ladies of St. James's Wear satin on their backs; She dons her russet gown, The ladies of St. James's! They are so fine and fair, The breath of heath and furze The ladies of St. James's! They're painted to the eyes; But Phyllida, my Phyllida! It wavers to a rose. The ladies of St. James's! The ladies of St. James's! They have their fits and freaks; \ They smile on you-for seconds, They frown on you-for weeks: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! Come either storm or shine, My Phyllida! my Phyllida! I care not though they heap I care not whose the beauties Is all the world to me! Austin Dobson [1840 THE CURE'S PROGRESS MONSIEUR the Curé down the street Comes with his kind old face, With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair, And his green umbrella-case. |